nH,< 


THEOLOGIOAL    SEMINARY 


Princeton,  N.  J. 


|j  ^'Vf.S^V  .Division /| 

i    ^^'^'^  s;ct.on .5.;i.:^ 

^  ____,:  ,N«. .. ..... 


r 


^  ^^ 


e 


SERMONS, 


BY 


SAMUEL    HORSLEY, 

Uu.D.  F.R.S.  F.A.&. 


LORD  BISHOP  OF  ST.  ASAPH. 


VOL.  L 


PRINTED  AND  SOLD  BY  T.  AND  J.  SWORDS, 

No.  ICO  Pearl-Street. 

1811. 


f 
ADV^M^MENT. 


bOME  months  have  now  elapsed  since  the  period  spe- 
cified for  the  deUvery  of  the  late  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph's 
Serni6ns  to  the  public.  In  extenuation  of  this  apparent 
neglect,  it  is  necessary  to  state,  that  owing  to  a  disap- 
pointment experienced  by  the  Printer  in  the  arrival  of  a 
set  of  new  types  from  London,  the  Editor  was  pre- 
vented from  putting  the  work  to  press  so  soon  as  he 
originally  intended ;  and  even  after  it  was  in  the  press, 
unpleasant  and  unforeseen  circumstances  arose,  which 
greatly  retarded  the  progress  of  the  publication. 

By  the  publication  of  their  posthumous  works,  the 
well-earned  fame  of  some  of  the  first  literaiy  characters 
hath  too  frequently  been  tarnished :  and  perhaps  to  no 
one  species  of  writing  is  this  observation  more  applicable 
than  to  that  of  which  these  volumes  are  composed.  The 
reason  of  this  it  is  not  difficult  to  assign :  the  editor 
either,  through  an  error  in  judgment,  makes  a  selection 
of  sermons  which  the  author  himself  never  would  have 
approved,  or,  through  an  inferiority  of  talent,  but  lamely 
restores  passages  obliterated  in  defaced  and  mutilated 
manuscripts.  To  the  former  of  these  causes  it  must  be 
attributed,  if  in  the  following  pages  any  thing  unworthy 
of  the  pen  of  their  learned  author  should  be  found ;  for 
to  the  latter  the  Editor  cannot  plead  guilty,  since,  fearful 
of  injuring  tlie  native  dignity  and  strcTjgth  of  the  com- 
positions, he  felt  it  a  sacred  duty  to  let  them  appear  in 
the  state  in  \vhic!i  they  were  left  by  the  Bishop. — Among 


IV 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


the  discourses  now  offered  to  the  public,  six  made  their 
appearance  in  print  some  years  since.  Five  of  these, 
the  ninth,  thirteenth,  fourteenth,  nineteenth,  and  twen- 
tieth, are  inserted  in  these  volumes  at  the  request  of  a 
prelate  to  whose  opinion  the  Editor  pays  the  most  im- 
plicit reverence ;  and  the  sixth,  *'  The  Holy  Ones  and 
the  Watchers,"  he  was  induced  to  reprint  by  the  cir- 
cumstance of  its  being  the  last  ever  composed  by  his  re- 
vered father. 

As  inquiries  from  various  quarters  have  been  made 
relative  to  the  fate  of  the  late  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph's 
papers,  the  Editor  of  the  Sermons  thinks  it  right  to  ap- 
prize the  literary  world  that  they  are  in  his  hands :  and 
he  readily  embraces  this  opportunity  of  publicly  expres- 
sing the  gratitude  due  from  him  to  the  creditors  of  the 
deceased^  and  to  the  gentlemen  who  upon  the  Bishop's 
demise  acted  as  administrator  to  his  affairs ;  for  to  the 
liberality  of  the  former,  and  the  exertions  of  the  latter, 
he  is  indebted  for  the  possession  of  these  valuable  ma- 
nuscripts. 

Of  the  talents  of  Bishop  Horsley  as  a  theologian,  it 
might  perhaps  be  indecorous  in  his  son  to  speak :  but 
he  may  be  allowed  to  state,  that  his  father's  papers  nave 
been  submitted  to  the  inspection  of  the  prelate  already 
alluded  to;  and  that,  in  that  prelate's  opinion,  they  con- 
tain a  mass  of  more  important  biblical  criticism  and  re- 
search than  has  for  many  years  made  its  appearance 
from  the  press.  Among  this  body  of  divinity  is  a  trans- 
lation of  the  book  of  Psalms,  accompanied  with  notes 
critical  and  explanatory, — a  treatise,  accompanied  with 
notes,  on  the  Pentateuch,  and  on  the  historical  books 
of  the  Old  Testament, — a  treatise  on  the  prophets  ;  con- 
taining  notes  on  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  Ezekiel  (Hosea,  al- 
ready published):  Joel,  Amos,  Obadiah.  These  are  all 
left  in  a  state  perfectly  ready  for  publication ;  and  it  is 
the  Editor's  wish  to  print  the  work  on  the  Psalms  im- 


ADVERTISEMENT.  v 

mediately.  It  wHl,  however,  extend  to  two  volumes 
quarto,  and  be  attended  with  considerable  expense ;  and 
being  more  calculated  for  the  use  of  the  scholar  and  the 
theological  student  than  for  the  libraries  of  the  generality 
of  readers,  it  will  find  comparatively  but  a  slow  sale. 
The  Editor  therefore  trusts  that  it  will  not  be  deemed 
unreasonable,  if  he  announces  that  he  cannot  in  justice 
to  his  family  venture  to  draw  the  expenses  of  such  a 
work  upon  himself,  without  the  prospect  of  a  fund  to 
answer  them.  The  moment  that  one  hundred  names  as 
purchasers  are  found,  he  will  proceed  to  press. 

It  might  seem  strange  were  this  articie  to  pass  over  in 
silence  Bishop  Horsley's  mathematical  papers.  His  cha- 
racter as  a  sound  mathematician  has  been  acknowledged 
and  respected  by  some  of  the  first  proficients ;  and  con- 
siderable expectations  have  been  formed  relative  to  the 
importance  of  the  papers  which  he  may  have  left  behind 
him  connected  with  that  science.  But  the  fact  is,  that 
in  the  concluding  years  of  his  life,  his  attention  and  time 
were  taken  up  with  other  objects ;  and  a  close  attendance 
in  Parliament,  with  the  business  of  an  extensive  diocese, 
left  him  latterly  but  little  leisure  for  his  favourite  pursuit. 
He  was,  however,  at  all  times  ready  to  lend  his  a?sist~ 
ance  to  others  who  were  engaged  in  mathematical  dis- 
quisitions to  any  salutary  or  useful  purpose.  Of  this 
readiness  the  Editor  recollects  one  remarkable  instance, 
which  occurred  when  his  father  was  Bishop  of  Rochester. 
During  that  period,  some  French  refugee  circulated  among 
the  British  mathematicians  of  a  certain  character  what  he 
called  a  demonstration  that  the  law  of  gravitation  could 
not  have  been  otherwise  constituted  than  we  find  it ;  and 
that  if  bodies,  by  such  a  law,  tend  toward  each  other  at 
all,  it  must  be  with  a  velocity  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the 
square  of  their  distances.  To  this  pretended  demon- 
stration the  Bishop's  attention  was  first  called  by  the  late 
Professor  Robison  of  Edinburgh,  who  had  himself  ^c~ 


vi  ADVERTISEMENT. 

tected  an  error  in  it,  which  however  had  been  hkewisc 
detected  by  the  author,  or  disclosed  to  him  by  some 
friend.  As  the  Professor  inferred,  from  the  attempt  at 
such  a  demonstration,  that  the  man's  intention  could  be 
nothing  else  than  to  establish  that  first  step  towards 
atheism,  the  eternity  of  the  -world  in  its  present  state,  he 
mentioned  to  the  Bishop  some  facts,  from  which  he 
thought  himself  able  to  prove  that  the  law  by  which  bo- 
dies tend  toward  each  other  is  arbitrary,  and  that  their 
velocities  might  have  been  in  various  other  ratios.  Lest, 
as  he  said,  the  cause  of  religion  should  be  hurt  by  a 
feeble  defence,  the  Professor  likewise  stated  the  outlines 
of  his  proof,  which  he  requested  the  Bishop  to  examine 
with  all  the  severity  becoming  the  editor  of  the  works 
of  Newton, — whose  fame  was  thus  combined  with  the 
interests  of  religion. 

That  the  Bishop  did  examine  the  Professor's  proofs, 
and  did  approve  of  them,  is  known  to  the  Editor  of  the 
present  volumes,  who  is  persuaded  that  the  correspond- 
ence between  these  two  eminent  mathematicians,  if  pre- . 
served  entire,  would  not  be  found  unworthy  of  the 
public  attention. 

The  most  important  however  of  the  Bishop's  mathe- 
matical labours  were  published  in  his  lifetime.  What 
remains,  as  far  as  they  have  been  hitherto  examined, 
with  the  exception  of  a  si?igie  manuscript,  are  loose  and 
unconnected  papers,  and  were  never  meant  by  the  au- 
thor to  meet  the  public  eye.  The  excepted  manuscript 
is  indeed  so  immediately  connected  with  the  science  in 
question,  and  is  left  in  so  nearly  a  finished  state,  that  the 
Editor  is  inclined  to  promise  the  publication  of  it.  It 
is  "  The  Life  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,"  'svhich  Dr.  Horsley, 
soon  after  he  had  edited  the  "  Principia,"  was  requested 
by  some  of  the  first  men  of  the  day  to  prefix  to  that 
work;  and,  from  the  ample  materials  Avhich  he  has  left 
behind  him,  it  is  evident  that  he  intended  to  comply 


ADVERTISEMENT.  vii 

with  the  request.  If  these  materials  be  now  published, 
they  assuredly  will  not  appear  in  so  complete  and  finished 
a  shape  as  they  would  have  done  had  they  received  a  final 
revision  from  their  author;  but,  in  the  humble  judgment 
of  the  writer  of  this  article,  thej^  will  still  form  a  more 
copious  and  more  interesting  life  of  the  great  philosopher 
than  any  yet  extant. 

The  Editor  of  these  volumes  has  now  only  to  state, 
that  if  it  please  God  to  spare  him  a  few  years,  he  pur- 
poses publishing  an  uniform  edition  of  all  his  father's 
works,  with  a  biographical  account  of  the  author.  To 
enable  him  to  accomplish  with  greater  facility  the  latter 
part  of  the  undertaking,  he  eamesdy  entreats  the  sur- 
viving literary  friends  of  the  late  Bishop,  to  favour  him 
with  such  communications  on  the  subject  as  it  may  be 
in  their  power  to  bestow, — more  especially  with  any 
particulars  relative  to  the  earlier  part  of  the  Bishop's 
life,  and  with  any  correspondence  between  themselves 
and  the  Bishop  which  they  may  deem  of  sufficient  in- 
terest to  form  a  part  of  such  memoir. 

H.  HORSLEY. 

Dundee i  January^  1810. 


VOLUME    FIRST. 


SERMON  I. 

James  v.  8. 
For  the  coming  of  tlie  Lord  draweth  nigh 


Page. 


SERMON  II. 

Matthew  xxiv.  3. 

Tell  us  when  shall  these  things  he,  and  what  shall  he  the 
signs  of  thy  coming  and  of  the  end  of  the  xvorld^        13 


SERMON  III. 

Matthew  xxiv.  3. 

I'ell  us  when  shall  these  things  he,  and  what  shall  he  the 
signs  of  thy  coming f  and  of  the  end  of  the  jvorld^ 
1 


X  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  IV. 

PSAIM  xlV.  1. 

Page. 
I  speak  of  the  things  which  I  ha-ce  made  touching  the 
King,  or  unto  the  King.  35 

SERMON  V. 

PSAIM  Xlv.  i. 

1  speak  of  the  things  which  I  have  made  touching  the 
King,  or  unto  the  King.  42 

SERMON  VI. 

Psalm  xlv.  1. 

I  speak  of  the  things  which  I  have  made  touching  the 
Kingy  or  unto  the  King.  55 

SERMON  YII. 

Psalm  xlv.  1. 

I  speak  of  the  things  which  I  hane  made  touching  the 
King,  or  unto  the  King.  69 


SERMON  VIII. 

1  John  v.  6. 

This  is  he  that  came  hj  water  and  hlood,  even  Je^us 
Christ; — not  by  water  only,  hut  by  water  and  blood.      87 


CONTENIS. 

SERMON  IX. 

Luke  iv.  18,  19. 


The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath 
anointed  me  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor;  he  hath 
sent  me  to  heal  the  broken  hearted,  to  preach  deliver- 
ance to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the 
blind, — to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  briiised, — to 
preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord.  lOii 

Preached  before  the  Society  for  rrotnoliiig  Christian  Knowledge,  June  1,  1793 

SERMON  X. 

Mark  vii.  37. 

And  they  were  beyond  measure  astonished,  saying.  He 
hath  done  all  things  well ;  he  maketh  both  the  deaf  to 
bear  and  the  dumb  to  speak,  119 

Preached  for  the  Lkeaf  and  Dumb  Asylunfi,  1790 

SERMON  XL 

John  xiii.  34. 

A.  new  commandment  I  give  unto  you^  That  ye  lave  one 
anotJier;  as  I  have  loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one 
another,  135 

SERMON  XII. 

Matthew  xvi.  28. 

Verily,  I  say  unto  yon,  there  be  some  standing  here, 
which  shall  not  taste  of  death  till  they  see  the  San  of 
Man  coming  in  his  kingdom.  147 


Sii  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XIII. 

Matthew  xvi.  18,  19. 

Page. 
I  say  also  unto  thee,  that  thou  art  Peter;  and  upon  this 
rock  I  will  huild  my  church*  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall 
not  preroaii  against  it.  And  I  will  give  unto  thee  the 
Tieys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  whatsoever  thou 
shall  bind  on  earth  shall  he  hound  in  heaven,  and  what- 
soever thou  shall  loose  on  earth  shall  he  loosed  in 
heaven.  ~  162 

Preached  before  the  Society  for  the  Prnpag«tion  of  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts, 
February  2U,  1795. 

SERMON  XIV. 

1  Corinthians  ii.  2. 

For  I  have  determined  not  to  know  any  thing  among 
roUf  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucifed.  ±77 

Preached  in  the  Cathedral  Church   of  Gloucester,    at  a  Public  Ordination   of 
Priests  and  Deacons. 

•IA.PPENDIX  18fl 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME    SECOND. 


SERMON  XV. 

2  Peter  i.  20,  21. 

Page. 
Knowing  this  JirsU  that  no  prophecy  of  the  Scripture  is 
of  any  private  interpretation.  For  the  pi'ophecy  came 
not  in  old  time — or,  as  it  is  in  the  margin—**  came  not 
at  any  time*' — hy  the  will  of  man ;  hut  holy  men  of 
God  spake  as  they  were  moved  hy  the  Holy  Ghost.  dt 

SERMON  XVI. 

2  Peter  i.  20,  21. 

Knowing  thisfrstf  that  no  prophecy  of  the  Scripture  is 
of  any  private  interpretation.  For  the  prophecy  came 
not  at  any  time  by  the  will  of  man ;  hut  holy  men  of 
God  spake  a.s  tliey  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  21 


3fiv  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XVn. 

3  Peter  i.  20. 

Page. 
Knowing  tMs  firsts  that  no  prophecy  of  the  Scripture  is 
of  any  private  interpretation.  32 

SERMON  XVIII. 

2  Peter  i.  20,  21. 

Knowing  this  first,  that  no  prophecy  of  tlie  Scripture  is 
of  any  private  interpretation.  For  the  prophecy  came 
not  at  any  time  hy  the  will  of  man ;  but  holy  men  of 
God  spake  as  they  were  jiioved  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  51 

SERMON  XTX. 

Matthew  xvi.  21. 

jFrom  that  timefortlu  began  Jesus  to  show  unto  his  dis- 
ciples, how  that  he  must  go  unto  Jerusalem,  and  suffer 
many  things  of  the  elders,  and  chif  priests,  and 
scribes,  and  be  killed,  and  be  raised  again  the  third 
day.  67 

SERMON  XX. 

1  Peter  iii.  18,  19,  20. 

Being  put  to  death  in  thefiesh,  but  quickened  by  the 

Sjrivit ;  by  which  also  he  xvent  and  preached  unto  the 
spirits  in  prison,  which  sometime  were  disobedient, 
-when  once  the  long-suffering  of  God  tvaited  in  the 
days  of  tJ^oah.  86 


CONTENTS.  XV 

SERMON  XXI. 

Mark  ii.  27. 

Page. 

The  Sdbhath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the 
Sahhath.  106 

SERMON  XXII. 

Mark  ii.  27. 

The  Sahhath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the 
Sahhath,  117 

SERMON  XXm. 

Mark  ii.  27. 

The  Sahhath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the 
Sahhath.  .  ±m 

SERMON  XXIV. 

John  ir.  42. 

We  have  heard  km  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  in- 
deed the  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  147 

SERMON  XXV. 

John  iv.  42. 

We  have  lieard  him  ourselves,  and  knoio  that  this  is  in- 
deed the  Christ,  tlie  Saviour  of  tJie  world.  159 


xri  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XXVI. 

John  iv.  42. 

Page. 
We  have  heard  him  ourselveSf  and  know  that  this  is  in- 
deed the  Christf  the  Saviour  of  the  ivorld.  173 

SERMON  XXVII. 

Philippians  iii.  15. 

Let  us,  therefore,  as  many  as  he  perfect,  he  thus  minded  ; 
and  rf  in  amj  thing  ye  he  otherwise  minded,  God  shall 
reveal  eren  this  unto  you,  190 

SERMON  XXVIII. 

Philippians  iii.  15. 

Let  us,  therefore,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be  thus  minded  ; 
and  if  in  any  thing  ye  be  otherwise  mindsd,  God  shall 
reveal  even  this  unto  you.  202 

SERMON  XXIX. 

Daniel  iv.  17. 

This  matter  is  by  the  decree  of  the  Watchers,  and  the 
demand  by  the  word  of  the  Holy  Ones ;  to  the  intent 
that  the  living  may  know  that  the  Most  High  ruleth  in 
the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to  whomsoever  he 
will,  and  setteth  up  over  it  the  basest  of  men.  215 

Prenched  in  the  Cathedral  Cliuich  of  St.  Asaph,  on  Thursday,  December  5, 
1805;  being  the  <lay  of  public  thanksgiving  for  the  victory  obtained  by  Admiral 
1-^ord  Viscount  Nelssu,  over  the  combined  fleets  of  France  and  Spain,  off  Capo 
'rrafalg!>!'. 


SERMON    I. 


St.  James  v.  8. 
.  JFor  the  commg  of  the  Lord  dmiueth  nigh. 

1  IME  was,  when  I  know  not  what  mystical  meaningi, 
were  drawn,  by  a  certain  cubaiistic  alchymy,  from  the 
simplest  expressions  of  holy  writ, — from  expressions  in 
which  no  allusion  could  reasonably  be  supposed  to  any 
thing  beyond  the  particular  occasion  upon  which  they 
were  introduced.  While  this  frenzy  raged  among  the 
learned,  visionary  lessons  of  divinity  were  often  derived, 
not  only  from  detached  texts  of  scripture,  but  from 
single  words, — not  from  words  only,  but  from  letters — 
from  the  place,  the  shape,  the  posture  of  a  letter :  and 
the  blunders  of  transcribers,  as  they  have  since  proved 
to  be,  have  been  the  ground- work  of  many  a  fine-spun 
meditation. 

It  is  the  weakness  of  human  nature,  in  every  instance 
of  folly,  to  rim  from  one  extreme  to  its  opposite.  In 
later  ages,  since  we  have  seen  the  futility  of  those  mystic 
expositions  in  which  the  school  of  Origen  so  much 
delighted,  we  have  been  too  apt  to  fail  into  the  contrary 
error ;  and  the  same  unwarrantable  license  of  figurative 
interpretation  which  they  employed  to  elevate,  as  they 
thought,  the  plainer  parts  of  Scripture,  has  been  used, 
in  modern  times,  in  effect  to  lower  die  divine. 

Among  the  passages  which  have  been  thus  misrepre- 
t^entcdby  the  refinements  of  a  false  criticism,  are  all  those 


(    2    ) 

uhich  contain  the  explicit  promise  of  the  "coming  of  the 
Son  of  Man  in  glory,  or  in  his  kingdom;"  which  it  is  be- 
come so  much  the  fashion  to  understand  of  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem  by  the  Roman  arms,  within  half  a  century  after 
our  Lord's  ascension,  that,  to  those  who  take  the  sense 
of  Scripture  from  some  of  the  best  modern  expositors, 
it  must  seem  doubtful  whether  any  clear  prediction  is  to 
be  found  in  the  New  Testament,  of  an  event  in  which,  of 
all  others,  the  Christian  world  is  the  most  interested. 

As  I  conceive  the  right  understanding  of  this  phrase  to 
be  of  no  small  importance,  seeing  the  hopes  of  the  righte- 
ous and  the  fears  of  the  wicked  rest  chiefly  on  the  explicit 
promises  of  our  Saviour's  coming,  it  is  my  present  pur- 
pose to  give  the  matter,  as  far  as  my  abilities  may  be  equal 
to  it,  a  complete  discussion;  and  although,  from  the 
nature  of  the  subject,  the  disquisition  must  be  chiefly 
critical,  consisting  in  a  particular  and  minute  examination 
of  the  passages  wherein  the  phrase  in  question  occurs,  yet 
I  trust,  that  by  God's  itssistance,  I  shall  be  able  so  to 
state  rny  argument,  that  every  one  here,  who  is  but  as 
well  versed  as  every  Christian  ought  to  be  in  the  English 
Bible,  may  be  a  very  good  judge  of  the  evidence  of  my 
conclusion.  If  I  should  sometimes  have  occasion,  which 
will  be  but  seldom,  to  appeal  to  the  Scriptures  in  the  origi- 
nal language,  it  will  not  be  to  impose  a  new  sense  upon  the 
texts  which  I  may  iind  it  to  my  purpose  to  produce,  but  to 
open  and  ascertain  the  meaning,  where  the  original  expres- 
sions may  be  more  clear  and  determinate  than  those  of  our 
translation.  And  in  these  cases,  the  expositions  which 
grammatical  considerations  may  have  suggested  to  me,  will, 
be  evidenced  to  you,  by  the  force  and  perspicuity  they 
may  give  to  the  passages  in  question,  considered  either  in 
themselves  or  in  the  connection  with  their  several  contexts. 

It  is  the  glory  of  our  church,  that  the  most  illiterate  of 
her  sons  are  in  possession  of  the  Scriptures  in  their  mother 
tongue.     It  is  their  duty  to  make  the  most  of  so  great  a 


(     3     } 

blessing,  by  employing  as  much  time  as  they  can  spare 
from  the  necessary  business  of  their  several  callings,  in 
the  diligent  study  of  the  written  word.  It  is  the  duty  of 
their  teachers  to  give  them  all  possible  assistance  and 
encouragement  in  this  necessary  work.  I  apprehend  that 
we  mistake  our  proper  duty,  when  Ave  avoid  the  public 
discussion  of  difficult  or  ambiguous  texts,  and  either 
keep  them  entirely  out  of  sight,  or,  when  that  cannot 
easily  be  done,  obtrude  our  interpretations  upon  the  laity, 
as  magisterial  or  oracular,  without  proof  or  argument ; — 
a  plan  that  may  serve  the  purposes  of  indolence,  and  may 
be  made  to  serve  worse  purposes,  but  is  not  well  adapted 
to  answer  the  true  ends  of  the  institution  of  our  holj^  order. 
The  will  of  God  is  that  all  men  should  be  saved ;  and  to 
that  end,  it  is  his  will  that  all  men,  that  is,  all  description;; 
of  men,  great  and  small,  rich  and  poor,  learned  and  ig- 
norant, should  come  to  the  knowledge  of  tlie  truth.  Of 
the  truth, — that  is,  of  the  truths  brought  to  light  by  the 
Gospel:  not  only  of  the  fundamental  truths  of  faith 
towards  God,  of  repentance  from  dead  works,  and  of  a 
future  judgment, — but  of  all  the  sublimer  truths  concern- 
ing the  scheme  of  man's  redemption.  It  is  God's  will 
that  all  men  should  be  brought  to  a  just  understanding  of 
the  deliverance  Christ  hath  wrought  for  us, — to  a  just  ap- 
prehension of  the  magnitude  of  our  hopes  in  him,  and  of 
the  certainty  of  the  evidence  on  which  these  hopes  are 
founded.  It  is  God's  will  that  all  men  should  come  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  original  dignity  of  our  Saviour's 
person, — of  the  mystery  of  his  incarnation, — -of  the  nature 
of  his  eternal  priesthood,  the  value  of  his  atonement,  the 
efficacy  of  his  intercession.  These  things  are  never  to  be 
understood  without  much  more  than  a  superficial  know- 
ledge of  the  Scriptures,  especially  the  Scriptures  of  the 
New  Testament ;  and  yet  that  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 
tures which  is  necessary  to  the  understanding  of  these 
things,  is  what  few,  I  would  hope,  in  this  country  are  too 


i     4    ) 

illiterate  to  attain.  It  is  our  duty  to  facilitate  the  attain- 
ment by  clearing  difficulties.  It  may  be  proper  to  state 
those  we  cannot  clear, — to  present  our  hearers  with  the 
interpretations  that  have  been  attempted,  and  to  show 
where  they  fail ; — in  a  word,  to  make  them  masters  of 
the  quesiion,  though  neither  they  nor  we  may  be  com- 
petent to  the  resolution  of  it.  This  instruction  would 
more  effectually  secure  them  against  the  poison  of  modern 
corruptions,  than  the  practice,  dictated  by  a  false  discre- 
tion, of  avoiding  the  mention  of  every  doctrine  that  may 
be  combated,  and  of  burying  every  text  of  doubtful 
meaning.  The  coiTupters  o^  the  Christian  doctrine  have 
no  such  reserve.  The  doctrines  of  the  divinity  of  ilie 
Son — the  incarnation — the  satisfaction  of  the  cross  as  a 
sacrifice,  in  the  literal  meaning  of  the  word — the  Media- 
torial intercession — the  influences  of  the  Spirit — the 
eternity  of  future  punishment— are  topics  of  popular  dis- 
cussion with  those  who  would  deny  or  pervert  these 
doctrines:  and  we  may  judge  by  their  succtns  what  owr 
&wh  might  be,  if  we  would  but  meet  our  antagonists 
on  their  own  ground.  The  common  people,  we  find, 
enter  into  the  force,  though  they  do  not  perceive  the  so- 
phistry of  their  arguments.  The  same  people  would 
much  more  enter  iifto  the  internal  evidence  of  the  genuine 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel,  if  holden  out  to  them,  not  in 
parts,  studiously  divested  of  whatever  may  seem  mysteri- 
ous,— not  with  aecommodatioivs  to  the  prevailing  fashion 
of  opinions,  but  enVire  aiid  undisguised.  Nor  are  the 
laity  to  shut  their  ears  against  these  disputations,  as 
niceties  in  which  they  are  not  concerned,  or  difficulties 
above  the  reach  of  their  abilities ;  and  least  of  all  are 
they  to  neglect  those  disquisitions  which  immediately 
respect  the  interpretation  of  texts.  Every  sentencefof  the 
Bible  is  from  God,  and  every  man  is  interested  in  the 
meaning  of  it.  The  teacher,  therefore,  is  to  expound, 
and  the  disciple  to  hear  and  read  with  diligence ;  and  much 


(   s   > 

might  be  the  fruit  of  the  blessing  of  God  on  their  united 
exertions.  And  this  I  infer,  not  only  from  a  general  con- 
sideration of  the  nature  of  the  Gospel  doctrine,  and  tlie 
cast  of  the  Scripture  language,  which  is  admirably  accom- 
modated to  vulgar  apprehensions,  but  from  a  fact  which 
has  happened  to  fall  much  widiin  my  own  observation,—- 
the  proficiency,  I  mean,  that  we  often  find,  in  some  single 
science^  of  men  who  have  never  had  a  liberal  education, 
and  who,  except  in  that  particular  subject  on  which  they 
have  bestowed  pains  and  attention,  remain  ignorant  and 
illiterate  to  the  end  of  their  lives.  The  sciences  are  said, 
and  they  are  truly  said,  to  have  that  mutual  connection, 
that  any  one  of  them  may  be  the  better  understood  for 
an  insight  into  the  rest.  And  there  is,  perhaps,  no  branch 
of  knowledge  which  recei\'es  more  illustration  from  all 
the  rest,  than  the  science  of  religion :  yet  it  hath,  like 
every  other,  its  ovjn  internal  principles  on  which  it  rests, 
with  the  knowledge  of  which,  without  any  other,  a  great 
progress  may  be  made.  And  these  lie  much  more  open 
to  the  apprehension  of  an  uncultivated  understanding 
than  the  principles  of  certain  abstruse  sciences,  such  as 
geometry,  for  instance,  or  astronomy,  in  which  I  have 
known  plain  men,  who  could  set  up  no  pretensions  to 
general  learning,  make  distinguished  attainments. 

Under  these  persuasions,  I  shall  not  scruple  to  attempt 
a  disquisition,  which,  on  the  first  view  of  it,  might  seem 
adapted  only  to  a  learned  auditory.  And  I  trust  that  I 
shall  speak  to  your  understandings. 

I  propose  to  consider  what  may  be  the  most  frequent 
import  of  the  phrase  of  "our  Lord's  coming."  And  it 
will,  if  I  mistake  not,  appear,  that  the  figurative  use  of 
it,  to  denote  the  time  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by 
the  Romans,  is  very  rare,  if  not  altogether  unexampled 
in  the  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament ;  except,  per- 
haps, in  some  passages  of  the  book  of  Revelations :  that, 
on  the  <3ther  hand,  the  use  of  it  iii  the  literal  sense  is  frc- 


(    6    ) 

quent,  warning  tlie  Christian  world  of  an  event  to  be 
wished  by  the  faithful,  and  dreaded  by  the  impenitent, — 
a  visible  descent  of  our  Lord  from  heaven,  as  visible  to 
all  the  world  as  his  ascension  was  to  the  apostles, — a 
coming  of  our  Lord  in  all  the  majesty  of  the  Godhead,  to 
judge  the  quick  and  dead,  to  receive  his  servants  into 
glory,  and  send  the  wicked  into  outer  darkness. 

In  the  epistles  of  St.  Paul,  St.  Peter,  and  St.  James, 
we  find  frequent  mention  of  the  coming  of  our  Lord,  in 
terms,  which,  like  those  of  the  text,  may  at  first  seem  to 
imply  an  expectation  in  those  viTiters  of  his  speedy  arri- 
\  al.  There  can  be  no  question  that  the  coming  of  our 
Lord  literally  signifies  his  coming  in  person  to  the  general 
judgment,  and  that  it  was  sometimes  used  in  this  literal 
sense  by  our  Lord  himself;  as  in  the  25th  chapter  of  St. 
Matthew's  gospel,  where  the  Son  of  Man  is  described  as 
coming  in  his  glory — as  sitting  on  the  throne  of  his  glo- 
ry— as  separating  the  just  and  the  wicked,  and  pronounc- 
ing the  final  sentence.  But,  as  it  would  be  very  unreason- 
able to  suppose  that  the  inspired  writers,  though  ignorant 
of  the  times  and  seasons,  which  the  Father  hath  put  in  his 
own  power,  could  be  under  so  great  a  delusion  as  to  look 
for  the  end  of  the  world  in  their  own  days, — for  this 
reason  it  has  been  imagined,  that  wherever  in  the  epistles 
of  the  apostles^  such  assertions  occur  as  those  I  have 
mentioned,  the  coming  of  our  Lord  is  not  to  be  taken  in 
the  literal  meaning  of  the  phrase,  but  that  \ve  are  to  look  for 
something  which  was  really  at  hand  when  these  epistles 
were  written,  and  which,  in  some  figurative  sense,  might 
be  called  his  coming.  And  such  an  event  the  learned 
think  they  find  in  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  which 
may  seem  indeed  no  insignificant  type  of  the  final  de- 
struction of  the  euemits  of  God  and  Christ.  But  if  we 
recur  to  the  passages  wherein  the  approach  of  Christ's 
kingdom  is  mentioned,  we  shall  find  that  in  most  of  them, 
I  believe  it  might  be  said  in  all  the  mention  of  the  final 


(     7    ) 

judgment  might  be  of  much  importance  to  the  writer\s 
argument,  while  that  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  could 
be  of  none.  The  coming  of  our  Lord  is  a  topic  which 
the  holy  penmen  employ,  when  they  find  occasion  to 
exhort  the  brethren  to  a  steady  perseverance  in  the  pro- 
fession of  the  Gospel,  and  a  patient  endurance  of  those 
trying  afflictions,  with  which  the  providence  of  God,  in 
the  first  ages  of  the  church,  was  pleased  to  exercise  his 
servants.  Upon  these  occasions,  to  confirm  the  perse- 
cuted Christian's  wavering  faith — to  revive  his  weary 
hope — to  invigorate  his  drooping  zeal — nothing  could  be 
more  effectual  than  to  set  before  him  the  prospect  of  that 
happy  consummation,  when  his  Lord  should  come  to 
take  him  to  himself,  and  change  his  short-lived  sorrows 
into  endless  joy.  On  the  other  hand,  nothing,  upon  these 
occasions,  could  be  more  out  of  season,  than  to  bring  in 
view  an  approaching  period  of  increased  affliction, — for 
such  was  the  season  of  the  Jewish  war  to  be.  The  be- 
lieving Jews,  favoured  as  they  were  in  many  instances, 
were  still  sharers  in  no  small  degree  in  the  common 
calamity  of  their  country.  They  had  been  trained  by 
our  Lord  himself  to  no  other  expectation.  He  liad  spoken 
explicitly  of  the  siege  of  Jerusalem  as  a  time  of  disti'ess 
and  danger  to  the  very  elect  of  God.  Again,  if  the  care- 
less and  indift'erent  were  at  any  time  to  be  awakened  to  a 
sense  of  danger,  the  last  judgment  was  likely  to  afford  a 
more  prevailing  argument  than  the  prospect  of  the  tem- 
poral ruin  impending  oyer  the  Jewish  nation,  or  indeed 
than  any  thing  else  which  the  phrase  of  "our  Lord's 
coming,"  according  to  any  figurative  interpretation  of  it, 
can  denote.  It  should  seem,  therefore,  that  in  all  those 
passages  of  the  epistles  in  which  the  coming  of  our  Lord 
is  holden  out,  either  as  a  motive  to  patience  and  perse- 
verance, or  to  keep  alive  that  spirit  of  vigilance  and  cau- 
tion which  is  necessary  to  make  our  calling  sure, — it 
should  seem,  that  in  all  these  passas:es  the  coming  is  to  be 


(     8    ) 

taken  literally  for  our  Lord's  personal  coming  at  the  last 
day ;  and  that  the  figure  is  rather  to  be  sought  in  those 
expressions  which,  in  their  literal  meaning,  might  seem 
to  announce  his  immediate  arrival.  ^  And  this  St.  Peter 
seems  to  suggest,  when  he  tells  us,  in  his  second  epistle, 
that  the  terms  of  soon  and  late  are  to  be  very  differently  un- 
derstood when  applied  to  the  great  operations  of  Provi- 
dence, and  to  the  ordinary  occurrences  of  human  life. 
*'  The  Lord,"  says  he,  "  is  not  slack  concerning  his 
promise,  as  some  men  count  slackness.  One  day  is  with 
tile  Lord  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one 
day."  Soon  and  [ate  are  words  whereby  a  comparison  is 
rather  intended  of  the  mutual  proportion  of  different  in- 
tervals of  time,  than  the  magnitude  of  any  one  by  itself 
defined.  And  the  same  thing  may  be  said  to  be  coming 
either  soon  or  late,  according  as  the  distance  of  it  is 
compared  with  a  longer  or  a  shorter  period  of  duration. 
Thus,  although  the  day  of  judgment  was  removed  un- 
doubtedly by  an  interval  of  many  ages  from  the  age  of  the 
apostles,  yet  it  might  in  then  days  be  said  to  be  at  hand, 
if  its  distance  from  them  was  but  a  small  part  of  its  ori- 
ginal distance  from  the  creation  of  the  world, — that  is,  if 
its  distance  then  was  but  a  small  part  of  the  whole  period 
of  the  world's  existence,  which  is  tlie  standard,  in  refer- 
ence to  which,  so  long  as  the  world  sliall  last,  all  other 
portions  of  time  may  be  by  us  most  properly  denominated 
long  or  short.  There  is  again  another  use  of  the  words 
soon  and  late,  whereby'  any  one  portion  of  time,  taken 
singly,  is  understood  to  be  compared,  not  with  any  other, 
but  with  the  number  of  events  that  are  to  come  to  pass 
in  it  in  natural  consequence  and  succession.  If  the  events 
are  i^i^vn  in  proportion  to  the  time,  the  succession  must  be 
slow,  and  the  time  may  be  called  long.  If  they  arc  many, 
the  succession  must  be  quick,  and  the  time  may  be  called 
short  in  respect  to  the  number  of  events,  whatever  be  the 
absolute  extent  of  it.     It  seems  to  be  in  this  sense  that 


(     9     ) 

expressions  denoting  speediness  of  event  are  applied  by 
the  sacred  writers  to  our  Lord's  coming.  In  the  day  of 
Messiah  the  Prince,  in  the  interval  between  our  Lord's 
ascension  and  his  coming  again  to  judgment,  the  world 
was  to  be  gradually  prepared  and  ripened  for  its  end. 
The  apostles  were  to  carry  the  tidings  of  salvation  to  the 
extremities  of  the  earth.  They  were  to  be  brought  before 
kings  and  rulers,  and  to  water  the  new-planted  churches 
with  their  blood.  Vengeance  was  to  be  executed  on  the 
unbelieving  Jews,  by  the  destruction  of  their  city,  and 
the  dispersion  of  their  nation.  The  Pagan  idolatry  was 
to  be  extirpated, — the  Man  of  Sin  to  be  revealed.  Jeru- 
salem is  yet  to  be  trodden  down ;  the  remnant  of  Israel 
is  to  be  brought  back, — the  elect  of  God  to  be  gathered 
from  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  And  when  the  aposties 
speak  of  diat  event  as  at  hand,  which  is  to  close  this  great 
scheme  of  Providence, — a  scheme  in  its  parts  so  exten- 
sive and  so  various, — they  mean  to  intimate  how  busily 
the  great  work  is  going  on,  and  with  what  confidence,  from 
what  they  saw  accomplished  in  their  own  days,  the  first 
Christians  might  expect  in  due  time  the  promised  con- 
summation. 

That  they  are  to  be  thus  understood  may  be  collected 
from  our  Lord's  own  parable  of  the  fig-tree,  and  the  ap- 
plication which  he  teaches  us  to  make  of  it.  After  a 
minute  prediction  of  the  distresses  of  the  Jewish  war,  and 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  a  very  general  mention 
of  his  second  coming,  as  a  thing  to  follow  in  its  appointed 
season,  he  adds,  "  Now  learn  a  parable  of  the  fig-tree : 
When  its  branch  becomes  tender  and  puts  forth  its  leaves, 
ye  know  that  summer  is  nigh.  So  likewise  ye,  when  ye 
shall  see  all  these  things,  know  that  it  is  near,  even  at  the 
doors."  That  it  is  near; — so  we  read  in  our  English 
Bibles ;  and  expositors  render  the  word  it,  by  the  ruin 
foretold^  or  the  desolation  spokeii  of.  But  what  was  the 
ruin  foretold,  or  the  desolation  spoken  of?  The  ruin  of 
3 


(     10    ) 

llie  Jewish  iiation-^— the  desolation  of  Jerusalem.  What 
were  all  these  things,  which,  when  they  should  see,  they 
might  know  it  to  be  near?  All  the  particulars  of  our  Sa- 
^'iour's  detail ; — ^that  is  to  say,  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem, 
with  all  the  circumstances  of  confusion  and  distress  with 
which  it  was  to  be  accompanied.  This  exposition,  there- 
fore, makes,  as  I  conceive,  the  desolation  of  Jerusalem 
the  prognostic  of  itself, — the  sign  and  the  thing  signified 
the  same.  The  true  rendering  of  the  original  I  take  to 
be,  "  So  likewise  ye,  w^hen  ye  shall  see  ail  these  things, 
know  that  He  is  near  at  the  doors."  He, — that  is,  the 
Son  of  Man,  spoken  of  in  the  verses  immediately  pre- 
ceding, as  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  with  power 
and  great  glory.  The  approach  of  summer,  says  our 
Lord,  is  not  more  surely  indicated  by  the  first  appearances 
of  spring,  than  the  final  destruction  of  the  wicked  by  the 
beginnings  of  vengeance  on  this  impenitent  people. 
The  opening  of  the  vernal  blossom  is  the  first  step  in 
a  natural  process,  which  necessarily  terminates  in  the 
ripening  of  the  summer  fruits ;  and  the  rejection  of  the 
Jews,  and  the  adoption  of  the  believing  Gentiles,  is  the 
first  step  in  the  execution  of  a  settled  plan  of  Providence, 
which  inevitably  terminates  in  the  general  judgment.  The 
chain  of  pliysical  causes,  in  the  one  case,  is  not  more 
iminterrupted,  or  more  certainly  productive  of  the  ulti- 
mate effect,  than  the  chain  of  moral  cau&es  in  the  other. 
*'  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  this  generation  shall  not  pass  till 
all  these  things  be  fulfilled."  All  these  things,  in  this 
sentence,  must  unquestionably  denote  the  same  things 
which  are  denoted  by  the  same  words  just  before.  Just 
l^efore,  the  same  words  denoted  those  particular  circum- 
stances of  the  Jewish  war  which  were  included  in  our 
Lord's  prediction.  All  those  signs  w^hlch  answer  to  the 
fig-tree's  budding  leaves,  the  apostles  and  their  contem- 
poraries, at  least  some  of  that  generation,  were  to  see. 
But  as  the  .thing  portended  is  not  included  among  the 


I  11  ) 

ijigns,  it  was  not  at  all  implied  in  this  declaration  that  any 
of  them  were  to  live  to  see  the  harvest^  the  coming  of  our 
Lord  in  glory. 

I  persuade  myself  that  I  have  sliown  that  our  Lord's 
coming,  whenever  it  is  mentioned  by  the  apostles  in  their 
epistles  as  a  motive  to  a  lioly  life,  is  always  to  be  taken 
literally  for  his  personal  coming  at  tlie  last  day. 

It  may  put  the  matter  still  farther  out  of  doubt,  to  oIj- 
serve,  that  the  passage  where,  of  all  others,  in  this  part 
of  Scripture,  a  figurative  interpretation  of  the  phrase  of 
"  our  Lord's  coming"  would  be  the  most  necessary,  if 
the  figure  did  not  lie  in  the  expressions  that  seem  to  inti- 
mate its  near  approach,  happens  to  be  one  in  which  our 
Lord's  coming  cannot  but  be  literally  taken.  The  pas- 
sage to  which  I  allude  is  in  the  fourth  chapter  of  St.  Paul'.s 
first  epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  from  the  13th  verse  to 
the  end.  The  apostle,  to  comfort  the  Thessalonian 
brethren  concerning  their  deceased  friends,  reminds  them 
of  the  resurrection ;  and  tells  them,  that  those  who  were 
already  dead  would  as  surely  have  their  part  in  a  happj'- 
immortality,  as  the  Christians  that  should  be  living  at  the 
time  of  our  Lord's  coming.  Upon  this  occasion,  his  ex- 
pressions,  taken  literally,  would  imply  that  he  included 
himself,  with  many  of  those  to  whom  these  consohtions 
^vere  addressed,  in  the  number  of  those  who  should  re- 
main alive  at  the  last  day.  This  turn  of  the  expression 
naturally  arose  from  the  strong  hold  that  the  expectation 
of  the  thing  in  its  due  season  had  taken  of  the  writer's 
imagination,  and  from  his  full  persuasion  of  the  truth  of 
the  doctrine  he  \\':\%  asserting, — namely,  that  those  who 
should  die  before  our  Lord's  coming,  and  those  who 
should  then  be  alive,  would  Hnd  themselves  quite  upon 
an  even  footing.  In  the  confident  expectation  of  his  own 
reward,  his  intermediate  dissolution  was  a  matter  of  so 
much  indifference  to  him  that  he  overlooks  it.  His  ex- 
pression, liowever,  was  so  stronr,  that  his  meaning  was 


r  12  ) 

mistaken,  or,  as  I  rather  think,  misrepresented,  I'herc 
seems  to  have  been  a  sect  in  the  apostoUc  age, — in  which 
sect,  however,  the  apostles  themselves  were  not,  as  some 
have  absurdly  maintained,  included, — but  there  seems  to 
have  been  a  sect  which  looked  for  the  resurrection  in 
their  own  time.  Some  of  these  persons  seem  to  have 
taken  advantage  of  St  Paul's  expressions  in  this  passage, 
to  represent  him  as  favouring  their  opinion.  This  occa- 
sioned the  second  epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  in  which 
the  apostle  peremptorily  decides  against  that  doctrine; 
maintaining  that  the  Man  of  Sin  is  to  be  revealed,  and  a 
long  consequence  of  events  to  run  out,  before  the  day  of 
judgment  can  come ;  and  he  desires  that  no  expression  of 
his  may  be  understood  of  its  speedy  arrival ;  which  proves, 
if  the  thing  needed  farther  proof  than  I  have  already  given 
of  it,  tliat  the  coming  mentioned  in  his  former  epistle  is 
the  coming  to  judgment,  and  that  whatever  he  had  said  of 
the  day  of  coming  as  at  hand,  was  to  be  understood  only 
of  the  certainty  of  that  coming. 

'  The  most  difficult  part  of  my  subject  yet  remains, — 
to  consider  the  passages  in  the  Gospel  wherein  the  coming 
of  our  Lord  is  mentioned. 


SERMON    II. 


Matthew  xxiv.  3, 


Tell  us  when  shall  these  things  be^  and  what  shall  be  the 
signs  of  thy  comi?ig  and  of  the  end  of  the  world? 

1  PROCEED  in  my  inquiry  into  the  general  importance 
of  the  phrase  of  "  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man"  in  the 
Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament. 

I  have  shown,  that  in  the  epistles,  wherever  our  Lord^s 
coming  is  mentioned,  as  an  expectation  that  should 
operate  through  hope  to  patience  and  perseverance,  or 
through  fear  to  vigilance  and  caution,  it  is  to  be  under- 
stood literally  of  his  coming  in  person  to  the  general 
judgment.  I  have  yet  to  consider  the  usual  import  of  the 
same  phrase  in  the  gospels.  I  shall  consider  the  passages 
wherein  a  figure  hath  been  supposed,  omitting  those 
where  the  sense  is  universally  confessed  to  be  literal. 

When  our  Lord,  after  his  resurrection,  was  pleased 
to  intimate  to  St.  Peter  the  death  by  which  it  was  or- 
dained that  he  should  glorify  God,  St.  Peter  had  the  weak 
curiosity  to  inquire  what  might  be  St.  John's  destiny. 
*'  Lord,  what  shall  this  man  do?"  "  Jesus  saith  unto 
him,  if  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  /  come^  what  is  that  to 
thee?  Follow  thou  me."  The  disciples  understood  this 
answer  as  a  prediction  that  St.  John  was  not  to  die;  which 
seems  to  prove,  what  is  much  to  our  purpose,  that  in 
the  enlightened  period  which  immediately  followed  our 
Lord's  ascension,  the  expression  of  his  coming  was  taken 


(    14    ) 

in  its  literal  meaning.  This  interpretation  of  the  reply  to 
St.  Peter  was  set  aside  by  the  event.  In  extreme  old 
age,  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved  was  taken  for  ever  to 
the  bosom  of  his  Lord.  But  the  Christians  of  that  time 
being  fixed  in  a  habit  of  interpreting  the  reply  to  St.  Peter 
as  a  prediction  concerning  the  term  of  St.  John's  life, 
began  to  affix  a  figurative  meaning  to  the  expression  of 
"  our  Lord's  coming,"  and  persuaded  themselves  that 
the  prediction  was  verified  by  St.  John's  having  survived 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem ;  and  this  gave  a  beginning 
to  the  practice,  which  has  since  prevailed,  of  seeking 
figurative  senses  of  this  phrase  wherever  it  occurs.  But 
the  plain  fact  is,  that  St.  John  himself  saw  nothing  of 
prediction  in  our  Saviour's  words.  He  seems  to  have 
apprehended  notliing  in  them  but  an  answer  of  significant 
though  mild  rebuke  to  an  inquisitive  demand. 

If  there  be  any  passage  in  the  New  Testament  in 
which  the  epoch  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  is  in- 
tended by  the  phrase  of  "  our  Lord's  coming,"  we  might 
not  unreasonably  look  for  this  figure  in  some  parts  of 
those  prophetical  discourses,  in  which  he  replied  to  the 
question  proposed  to  him  in  the  words  of  the  text,  and 
particularly  in  the  27th  verse  of  this  24th  chapter  of  St. 
Matthew's  gospel,  where  our  Saviour,  in  the  middle  of 
that  part  of  his  discourse  in  which  he  describes  the  events 
of  the  Jewish  war,  says,  "  For  as  the  lightning  cometh 
out  of  the  east  and  shineth  unto  the  west,  so  shall  also 
the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  be."  And  he  adds,  in 
the  28th  verse,  "  For  wheresoever  the  carcase  is,  there 
will  the  eagles  be  gathered  together."  The  disciples, 
when  they  put  the  question,  "  Tell  us  when  shall  these 
things  be,  and  what  shall  be  the  signs  of  thy  coming  and 
of  the  end  of  the  world?"  im?.gined,  no  doubt,  that  the 
coming  of  our  Lord  was  to  be  the  epoch  of  the  demoli- 
tion, widi  which  he  had  threatened  the  temple.  They 
iiad  not  yet  raised  their  expectations  to  any  thing  above 


(15    ) 

a  temporal  kingdom.  They  imagined,  perhaps,  that  our 
Lord  would  come  by  conquest,  or  by  some  display  of 
his  extraordinaiy  powers,  which  should  be  equivalent  to 
conquest,  to  seat  himself  upon  David's  throne ;  and  that 
the  destruction  of  the  Jewish  temple  would  be  either  the 
last  step  in  the  acquisition  of  his  royal  power,  or  perhaps 
the  first  exertion  of  it.  The  veil  was  yet  upon  their  un- 
derstandings ;  and  the  season  not  being  come  for  taking 
it  entirely  away,  it  would  have  been  nothing  strange  if 
our  Lord  had  framed  his  reply  in  terms  accommodated 
to  their  prejudices,  and  had  spoken  of  the  ruin  of  Jeru- 
salem as  they  conceived  of  it, — as  an  event  that  was  to 
be  the  consequence  of  his  coming, — to  be  his  own  im- 
mediate act,  in  the  course  of  those  conquests  by  which 
they  might  think  he  was  to  gain  his  kingdom,  or  the  be- 
ginning of  the  vengeance  which,  when  established  in  it, 
he  might  be  expected  to  execute  on  his  vanquished  ene- 
mies. These  undoubtedly  were  the  notions  of  the  dis- 
ciples, when  they  put  the  question  concerning  the  time 
of  the  destruction  of  the  temple  and  the  signs  of  our 
Lord's  coming ;  and  it  would  have  been  nothing  strange 
if  our  Lord  had  delivered  his  answer  in  expressions  stu- 
diously accommodated  to  these  prejudices.  For  as  the 
end  of  prophecy  is  not  to  give  curious  men  a  knowledge 
of  futurity,  but  to  be  in  its  completion  an  evidence  of 
God's  all-ruling  providence,  who,  if  he  governed  not  the 
world,  could  not  possibly  foretel  the  events  of  distant 
ages ; — for  this  reason,  the  spirit  which  was  in  the  pro- 
phets hath  generally  used  a  language,  artfully  contriA'^d 
to  be  obscure  and  ambiguous,  in  proportion  as  the  events 
intended  might  be  distant, — gradually  to  clear  up  as  the 
events  should  approach,  and  acquire  from  the  events, 
when  brought  to  pass,  the  most  entire  perspicuity :  that 
thus  men  might  remain  in  that  ignorance  of  futurity, 
which  so  suits  with  the  whole  of  our  present  condition, 
that  it  seems  essential  to  the  welfare  of  the  world ;  and 


(  16  ) 

yet  be  overwhelmed  at  last  with  evident  demonstrations 
of  the  power  of  God.  It  might  have  been  expected  that 
our  Lord,  in  delivering  a  prediction,  should  assume  the 
accustomed  style  of  prophecy,  which  derives  much  of 
its  useful  ambiguity  from  this  circumstance, — from  an 
artful  accommodation  to  popular  mistakes,  so  far  as  they 
concern  not  the  interest  of  religion  ; — and  much  of  this 
language  indeed  we  find  in  our  Lord's  discourse.  But 
with  respect  to  his  own  coming,  it  seems  to  be  one  great 
object  of  his  discourse,  to  advertise  the  Christian  world 
that  it  is  quite  a  distinct  event  from  the  demolition  of 
the  Jewish  temple.  This  information  is  indeed  conveyed 
in  oblique  insinuations,  of  which  it  might  not  be  in- 
tended that  the  full  meaning  should  appear  at  the  time 
when  they  were  uttered.  But  when  Christians  had  once 
seen  Jerusalem,  with  its  temple  and  all  its  towers  de- 
stroyed, the  nation  of  the  Jews  dispersed,  and  our  Lord, 
in  a  literal  meaning,  not  yet  come ;  it  is  strange  that  they 
did  not  then  discern,  that  if  there  be  any  thing  explicit 
and  clear  in  the  whole  of  this  prophetical  discourse,  it  is 
this  particular  prediction,  that  during  the  distresses  of 
the  Jewish  war  the  expectation  of  our  Lord's  immediate 
coming  would  be  the  reigning  delusion. of  the  times. 
The  discourse  is  opened  with  this  caution,  "  Take  heed 
that  no  man  deceiv^e  you :  for  many  shall  come  in  my 
name,  saying,  I  am  Ch/ist;  and  shall  deceive  many." 
And  the  same  caution  is  repeated  in  various  parts  of  the 
prophecy,  till  he  comes  at  last  to  speak  (as  I  shall  here- 
after show)  of  his  real  coming  as  a  thing  to  take  place 
after  the  destined  period  should  be  run  out  of  the  deso- 
lation of  the  holy  city.  "  If  any  man  shall  say  unto  you, 
Lo,  here  is  Christ,  or  there,  believe  it  not.  If  they  shall 
say  unto  you,  Behold  he  is  in  the  desert,  go  not  forth ; 
Behold  he  is  in  the  secret  chambers,  believe  it  not.  For 
as  the  lightning  cometh  out  of  the  east  and  shineth  unto 
the  west,  so  shall  also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  be. 


(    17    ) 

For,"  as  it  is  added  in  St.  Matthew,  "  wheresoever  the 
carcass  is,  there  will  the  eagles  be  gathered  together." 
Give  no  credit,  says  our  Lord,  to  any  reports  that  may 
be  spread  that  the  Messiah  is  come, — thiit  he  is  in  this 
place,  or  in  that :  my  coming  will  be  attended  with  cir- 
cumstances which  will  make  it  public  at  once  to  all  the 
world ;  and  there  will  be  no  need  that  one  man  should 
carry  the  tidings  to  another.  This  sudden  and  universal 
notoriety  that  there  will  be  of  our  Saviour's  last  glorious 
advent  is  signified  by  the  image  of  the  lightning,  which, 
in  the  same  instant,  flashes  upon  the  eyes  of  spectators  in 
remote  and  opposite  stations.  And  this  is  all  that  this 
comparison  seems  intended  or  indeed  fitted  to  express. 
It  hath  been  imagined  that  it  denotes  the  particular  route 
of  the  Roman  armies,  which  entered  Judea  on  the  eastern 
side,  and  extended  their  conquests  westward.  But  had 
this  been  intended,  the  image  should  rather  have  been 
taken  from  something  which  hath  its  natural  and  neces- 
sary course  in  that  direction.  The  lightning  may  break 
out  indifferently  in  any  quarter  of  the  sky ;  and  east  and 
west  seem  to  be  mentioned  only  as  extremes  and  oppo- 
sites.  And,  accordingly,  in  the  parallel  passage  of  St. 
Luke's  gospel,  we  read  neither  of  east  nor  west,  but 
indefinitely  of  opposite  parts  of  the  heavens :  "  For  as 
the  lightning,  that  lighteneth  out  of  the  one  part  under 
the  heaven,  shineth  unto  the  other  part  under  heaven, 
so  shall  also  the  Son  of  Man  be  in  his  day^  The  ex- 
pression his  day  is  remarkable.  The  original  might  be 
more  exactly  rendered  his  own  day ;  intimating,  as  I 
conceive,  that  die  day^  i.  e.  the  time  of  the  Son  of  Man, 
is  to  be  exclusively  his  own, — quite  another  from  the 
day  of  those  deceivers  whom  he  had  mentioned,  and, 
therefore,  quite  another  from  the  day  of  the  Jewish  war, 
in  which  those  deceivers  were  to  arise. 

Nevertheless,  if  it  were  certain  that  the  eagles,  in  the 
next  verse,  denote  the  Roman  armies,  bearing  the  figure 
4 


(     18     ) 

of  an  eagle  on  their  standards, — if  the  carcass,  round 
which  the  eagles  were  to  be  gathered,  be  the  Jewish 
nation,  which  was  morally  and  judicially  dead,  and 
whose  destruction  was  pronounced  in  the  decrees  of 
heaven, — if  this  were  certain,  it  might  then  seem  neces- 
sary to  understand  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man,  in 
the  comparison  of  the  lightning,  of  his  coming  figura- 
tively to  destroy  Jerusalem.  But  this  interpretation  of 
the  eagles  and  the  carcass  I  take  to  be  a  very  uncertain, 
though  a  specious  conjecture. 

As  the  sacred  historians  have  recorded  the  several 
occurrences  of  our  Saviour's  life  without  a  scrupulous 
attention  to  the  exact  order  of  time  in  which  they  hap- 
pened, so  they  seem  to  have  registered  his  sayings  with 
wonderful  fidelitj^  but  not  always  in  the  order  in  which 
they  came  from  him.  Hence  it  has  come  to  pass,  that 
the  heads  of  a  continued  discourse  have,  perhaps,  in 
some  instances,  come  down  to  us  in  the  form  of  uncon- 
nected apothegms.  Hence,  also,  we  sometimes  find  the 
same  discourse  differently  represented,  in  some  minute 
circumstances,  by  different  evangelists ;  and  maxims  the 
same  in  purport  somewhat  differently  expressed,  or  ex- 
pressed in  the  same  words,  but  set  down  in  a  different 
order; — circumstances  in  which  the  captious  infidel 
finds  occasion  of  perpetual  cavil,  and  from  which  the 
believer  derives  a  strong  argument  of  the  integrity  and 
veracity  of  the  writers  on  whose  testimony  his  faith  is 
foundedo  Now,  wherever  these  varieties  appear,  the 
rule  should  be  to  expound  each  writer's  narrative  by  a 
careful  comparison  with  the  rest. 

To  apply  this  to  the  matter  in  question.  These  pro- 
phecies of  our  Lord,  which  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark 
relate  as  a  continued  discourse,  stand  in  St,  Luke's  nar- 
rative in  two  different  parts,  as  if  they  had  been  delir 
vered  upon  different,  though  somewhat  similar  occasions. 
Fhe  first  of  these  parts,  in  order  of  time,  is  made  the 


(     19     ) 

latter  part  of  the  whole  discourse  in  St.  Matthew's  nar= 
rative.  The  first  occasion  of  its  delivery  was  a  question 
put  by  some  of  the  pharisees  concerning  the  time  of 
the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  Our  Lord  having 
given  a  very  general  answer  to  the  pharisees,  addresses 
a  more  particular  discourse  to  his  disciples,  in  which, 
after  briefly  mentioning,  in  highly  figured  language,  the 
aflliction  of  the  season  of  the  Jewish  war,  and  after 
cautioning  his  disciples  against  the  false  rumours  of  his 
advent  which  should  then  be  spread,  he  proceeds  to 
describe  the  suddenness  v\  ith  which  his  real  advent,  the 
day  of  judgment,  will  at  last  surprise  the  thoughtless 
w^orld.  The  particulars  of  this  discourse  we  have  in 
the  17th  chapter  of  Si.  Luke's  gospel.  The  other  part 
of  these  prophecies  St.  Luke  relates  as  delivered  at  an- 
other time,  upon  the  occasion  which  St.  Matthew  and 
St.  Mark  mention.  When  the  disciples,  our  Lord 
having  mentioned  the  demolition  of  the  temple,  in- 
quired of  him,  "  When  shall  these  things  be,  and  what 
shall  be  the  sign  of  thy  coming,  and  of  the  end  of  the 
world?"  our  Lord  answers  their  question,  as  far  as  it 
was  proper  to  answer  it.  He  gives  a  minute  detail  of 
those  circumstances  of  the  war,  which,  to  that  genera- 
tion, were  to  be  the  sigfis  of  the  last  advent ; — not  the 
thing  itself,  but  the  signs  ot  it ;  for  the  beginning  of  the 
completion  of  a  long  train  of  prophecy  is  the  natural 
sign  and  pledge  of  the  completion  of  the  whole.  He 
foretels  the  total  dispersion  of  the  Jews.  He  mentions 
briefly  his  OAvn  coming,  of  which,  he  says,  the  things 
previously  mentioned  would  be  no  less  certain  signs 
than  the  first  appearances  of  spring  are  signs  of  the 
season  of  the  harvest.  He  aflEirms  that  the  day  and 
hour  of  his  coming  is  known  to  none  but  the  Father; 
and  he  closes  the  whole  of  this  discourse  with  general 
exhortations  to  constant  watchfulness,  founded  on  the 
consideration  of  that  suddenness  of  his  coming  of  which 


(     20     ) 

he  had  given  such  explicit  warning  in  his  former  dis- 
course. The  detail  of  this  last  discourse,  or  rather  of  so 
much  of  this  discourse  as  was  not  a  repetition  of  the 
former,  we  have  in  the  21st  chapter  of  St.  Luke's  gospel. 
St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark,  the  one  in  tlie  ii4th  and 
25th,  the  other  in  the  13th  chapter  of  his  gospel,  give  these 
prophecies  in  one  entire  discourse,  as  thej'^  were  deli- 
vered to  the  apostles  upon  the  occasion  which  they  men- 
tion ;  but  they  have  neither  distinguished  the  part  that  was 
new  from  what  had  been  delivered  before,  nor  have  they 
preserved,  as  it  should  seem,  so  exactly  as  St.  Luke,  the 
original  arrangement  of  the  matter.  In  particular,  St. 
Matthew  has  brought  close  together  the  comparison  of 
the  Son  of  Man's  coming  with  a  flash  of  lightning,  and 
the  image  of  the  eagles  gathered  about  the  carcass.  St. 
Mark  mentions  neither  the  one  iw  the  other;  whereas 
St.  Luke  mentions  both,  but  sets  them  at  the  greatest 
distance  one  from  the  other.  Both,  as  appears  from  St. 
Luke,  belonged  to  the  old  part  of  the  discourse ;  but 
the  comparison  of  the  lightning  was  introduced  near  the 
beginning  of  the  discourse,  the  image  of  the  eagles  and 
the  carcass  at  the  very  end  of  it.  Indeed  this  image  did 
not  belong  to  the  prediction,  but  was  an  answer  to  a 
particular  question  proposed  by  the  disciples  respecting 
some  things  our  Lord  had  said  in  the  latter  part  of  this 
prophecy.  Our  Saviour  had  compared  the  suddcjiness 
of  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  to  the  sudden  erup- 
tion of  the  waters  in  Noah's  flood,  and  to  the  sudden 
fall  of  the  lightning  that  consumed  Sodom  and  Go- 
morrah. It  is  evident,  from  St.  Matthew's  relation,  that 
the  coming,  intended  in  these  similitudes,  is  that  com- 
ing, of  the  time  and  hour  of  which  none  knows,  said 
our  Lord',  "  not  even  the  Son,  but  the  Father."  But 
since  the  epoch  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  was 
known  to  the  Messiah  by  the  prophetic  spirit, — for  he 
said  that  it  should  tai;e  place  before  the  generation  with 


(    21    ) 

which  he  was  living  on  earth  should  be  passed  away, — 
the  coming,  of  which  the  time  was  not  known  to  the 
Messiah  by  the  prophetic  spirit,  could  be  no  other  than 
the  last  personal  advent.  This,  therefore,  is  the  com- 
ing of  which  our  Lord  speaks  in  the  17ih  chapter  of  St. 
Luke's  gospel,  and  of  which  he  describes  the  sudden- 
ness ;  and,  in  the  end  of  his  discourse,  he  foretels  some 
extraordinary  interpositions  of  a  <iiscriminating  Provi- 
dence, which  shall  preserve  the  righteous,  in  situations 
of  the  greatest  danger,  from  certain  public  calamities 
which  in  the  last  ages  of  the  world  will  fall  upon  wicked 
nations.  "  Of  two  men  in  one  bed,  one  shall  be  taken 
and  the  other  left.  Two  women  grinding  together,  the 
one  shall  be  taken  and  the  other  left.  Two  men  shall 
be  in  the  field,  the  one  shall  be  taken  and  the  other  left. 
And  they  said  unto  him.  Where,  Lord?  And  he  said 
unto  them,  Wheresoever  the  body  is,  thither  will  the 
eagles  be  gathered  together."  It  is  j.;obable  that  the 
eagle  and  the  carcass  was  a  proverbial  image  among  the 
people  of  the  East,  expressing  things  inseparably  con- 
nected by  natural  affinities  and  sympathies.  "  Her 
young  ones  suck  up  blood,"  says  Job,  speaking  of  the 
eagle,  "  and  where  the  slain  is,  there  is  she."  The  dis- 
ciples ask.  Where,  in  what  countries  are  these  calami- 
ties to  happen,  and  these  miraculous  deliverances  to  be 
wrought?  Our  divine  instructor  held  it  unfit  to  give 
farther  light  upon  the  subject.  He  frames  a  reply,  as 
was  his  custom  when  pressed  with  unseasonable  ques- 
tions, which,  at  the  same  time  that  it  evades  the  parti- 
cular inquiry,  might  more  edify  the  disciples  than  the 
most  explicit  resolution  of  the  question  proposed. 
*'  Wheresoever  the  carcass  is,  thither  will  the  eagles  be 
gathered  together."  Wheresoever  sinners  shall  dwell, 
there  shall  my  vengeance  overtake  them,  and  there  will 
I  interpose  to  protect  my  faithful  servants.  Nothing, 
therefore,  in  the  similitude  of  the  lightning,  or  the  image 


(    22    ) 

of  the  eagles  gathered  round  the  carcass,  limits  the 
phrase  of  "  our  Lord's  coming,"  in  the  27th  verse  of 
this  24th  chapter  of  St.  Matthew,  to  the  figurative  sense 
of  his  coming  to  destroy  Jerusalem. 

His  coming  is  announced  again  in  the  30th  verse,  and 
in  subsequent  parts  of  these  same  prophecies;  where  it 
is  of  great  importance  to  rescue  the  phrase  from  the 
refinements  of  modern  expositors,  and  to  clear  some 
considerable  difficulties,  which,  it  must  be  confessed, 
attend  the  literal  interpretation.  And  to  this  purpose  I 
shall  devote  a  separate  discourse. 


SERMON    III. 


Matthew  xxiv.  3. 

Tell  us  when  shall  these  things  be,  and  what  shall  be  the 
signs  of  thy  coming ^  and  of  the  end  of  the  world? 

It  was  upon  the  Wednesday  in  the  Passion  week,  that 
our  Lord,  for  the  last  time  retiring  from  the  temple, 
where  he  had  closed  his  public  teaching  with  a  severe 
invective  against  the  hypocrisy  of  the  scribes  and  pha- 
risees,  uttered  to  the  apostles,  remarking  with  admira- 
tion as  they  passed  the  strength  and  beauty  of  that  stately 
fabric,  that  prediction  of  its  approaching  demolition 
which  gave  occasion  to  the  question  which  is  related  in 
my  text.  When  they  reached  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
and  Jesus  was  seated  on  a  part  of  the  hill  where  the 
city  and  temple  lay  in  prospect  before  him,  four  of  the 
apostles  took  advantage  of  that  retirement  to  obtain,  as 
they  hoped,  from  our  Lord's  mouth,  full  satisfaction  of 
the  curiosify  which  his  prediction  of  the  temple's  ruin 
had  excited.  Peter,  James,  John,  and  Andrew,  came  to 
him,  and  asked  him  privatelj^,  "  Tell  us,  when  shall 
these  things  be,  and  what  shall  be  the  signs  of  thy  com- 
ing, and  of  the  end  of  the  world  ?"  To  this  inquiry  our 
Lord  was  pleased  to  reply,  in  a  prophetical  discourse  of 
some  considerable  length,  which  takes  up  two  entire 
chapters,  the  24th  and  25th  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel ; 
snd  yet  is  brief,  if  the  discourse  be  measured  by  the 
subject, — if  the  length  of  speech  be  compared  with  the 


(    24    } 

period  of  time  which  the  prophecy  embraces,  commenc- 
ing within  a  few  years  after  our  Lord's  ascension,  and 
ending  only  with  the  general  judgment.  This  discourse 
consists  of  two  principal  branches.  The  first  is  the  an- 
swer to  the  first  part  of  the  question,  "  .When  shall 
these  things  be?" — that  is,  When  shall  this  demolition 
of  the  temple  be,  which  thou  hast  now  foretold?  And 
the  second  branch  of  the  discourse  is  the  answer  to  the 
second  part  of  the  question,  "  What  shall  be  the  signs 
of  thy  coming,  and  of  the  end  of  the  world?"  You 
will  find,  indeed,  in  some  modern  expositions,  such  a 
turn  given  to  the  expressions  in  which  the  apostles 
put  their  questions,  as  makes  the  two  branches  of  the 
sentence,  not  two  distinct  questions,  as  they  really  are, 
but  the  same  question,  differently  expressed.  You  are 
told  by  these  expositors,  that  by  the  end  of  the  world 
the  apostles  meant  the  end  of  that  particular  age  during 
which  the  Jewish  church  and  state  were  destined  to  en- 
dure. Such  puerile  refinements  of  verbal  criticism 
might  better  become  those  blind  leaders  of  the  blind, 
against  whose  bad  teaching  our  Saviour  warned  the 
Jewish  people,  than  the  preachers  of  the  gospel.  Ask 
these  expositors  by  what  means  they  w^ere  themselves 
led  to  the  discovery  of  a  meaning  so  little  obvious  in  the 
words,  you  will  find  that  they  have  nothing  to  allege  but 
what  they  call  the  idioms  of  the  Jewish  language; 
which,  however,  are  no  idioms  of  the  language  of  the 
inspired  penmen,  but  the  idioms  of  the  rabbinical  di- 
vines,— a  set  of  despicable  writers,  who  strive  to  cover 
their  poverty  of  meaning  by  the  affected  obscurity  of  a 
mystic  style.  The  apostles  were  no  rabbins ;  they  were 
plain  artless  men,  commissioned  to  instruct  men  like 
themselves  in  the  mysteries  of  God's  kingdom.  It  is 
not  to  be  believed  that  such  men,  writing  for  such  a 
purpose,  and  charged  with  the  publication  of  a  general 
revelation,  should  employ  phrases  intelligible  to  none 


(    25    } 

but  Jews,  and  among  the  Jews  themselves  intelligible  onl^; 
to  the  learned.  The  word  end,  by  itself,  indeed,  may  hQ 
the  end  of  any  thing,  aiid  may  perhaps  be  used  in  this 
very  part  of  Scripture  with  some  ambiguity,  either  for 
the  end  of  all  things,  or  the  end  of  the  Jewish  state,  or 
the  end  of  any  period  which  may  be  the  immediate 
subject  of  discourse :  but  it  is  not  to  be  believed  that 
the  end  of  the  world,  in  the  language  of  the  apostles, 
may  signify  the  end  of  any  thing  else,  or  carry  any  other 
meaning  than  what  the  words  must  naturally  convey, 
to  every  one  who  believes  that  the  world  shall  have  ar» 
end,  and  has  never  bewildered  his  understanding  in  the 
schools  of  the  rabbin.  The  apostles,  therefore,  in  tlie 
text,  clearly  ask  two  questions :  When  will  the  temple 
be  demolished,  as  thou  hast  threatened  ?  And  by  what 
signs  shall  the  world  be  apprized  of  thy  coming,  and  of 
its  approaching  end?  Our  Lord's  prophetical  discourse 
contains  such  an  answer  as  was  meet  for  both  these 
questions;  and  as  the  questions  were  distinctly  pro- 
pounded, the  answers  are  distinctly  given  in  the  two 
distinct  branches  of  the  entire  discourse. 

I  observed,  in  my  last  sermon  upon  this  subject,  that 
these  prophecies  of  our  Lord,  which  St.  Matthew  and 
St.  Mark  relate  as  a  continued  discourse,  are  related  by 
St.  Luke  as  if  they  had  been  delivered  in  two  different 
parts,  upon  different,  though  similar  occasions.  The- 
truth  is,  that  it  was  our  Lord's  custom,  as  appears  from 
the  evangelical  history,  not  only  to  inculcate  frequently 
the  same  maxims,  and  to  apply  the  same  proverbs  in 
various  senses,  but  to  repeat  discourses  of  a  consider- 
able length  upon  different  occasions ;  as  what  is  called 
his  sermon  on  the  Mount  was  at  least  twice  delivered, 
and  some  of  his  parables  were  uttered  more  than  once. 
It  is  a  rule,  however,  with  the  evangelists,  that  each 
relates  a  discourse  of  any  considerable  length  but  once, 
without  noticing  the  various  occasions  upon  which  it 


(    26    ) 

might  be  repeated;  though  different  evangehsts  often 
record  .different  deliveries  of  the  same  discourse.  St. 
Luke  having  related  in  its  proper  place  our  Lord's  an- 
swer to  the  inquiry  of  the  pliarisees  about  the  sigiis  of 
the  kingdom,  omits,  in  his  relation  of  our  Lord's  answer 
to  the  like  inquiry  of  the  apostles,  what  seemed  little 
more  than  a  repetition  of  what  had  been  said  upon  the 
former  occasion.  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  have  given 
the  discourse  in  reply  to  the  apostles  more  at  length, 
without  mentioning  that  our  Lord  had  at  any  time  before 
touched  upon  the  same  subject. 

By  comparing  the  parallel  passages  of  these  propheti- 
cal discourses,  as  they  are  related  entire  by  St.  Matthew, 
and  in  parts  by  St.  Luke,  I  have  already  shown,  that  in 
the  similitude  of  the  lightning,  by  which  our  Lord  re- 
presents the  suddenness  of  his  future  coming,  no  allu- 
sion could  be  intended  to  the  route  of  the  Roman  armies, 
when  they  invaded  Palestine ;  and  that  the  image  of  the 
eagles  gathered  round  the  carcass  hath  been  expounded 
with  more  refinement  than  truth  of  the  Roman  standards 
planted  round  Jerusalem,  when  tlie  city  was  besieged  by 
Vespasian.  No  argument,  therefore,  qan  be  drawn  from 
these  poetical  allusions,  that  the  coming  of  the  Son  of 
Man,  which  is  compared  to  the  flash  of  lightning,  was 
^vhat  has  been  called  his  coming  figuratively  to  destroy 
Jerusalem.  I  now  proceed  to  consider  the  remaining 
part  of  these  prophecies,  and  to  show  that  the  coming 
of  the  Son  of  Man,  so  often  mentioned  in  them,  can  be 
tmderstood  of  nothing  but  that  future  coming  of  our 
/  Lord  which  was  promised  to  the  apostles  by  the  angels 
at  the  time  of  his  ascension, — his  coming  visibly  to 
judge  the  quick  and  dead. 

Every  one,  I  believe,  admits  that  the  coming  of  the 
Son  of  Man,  foretold  in  the  SOth  \Trse  of  this  24th 
chapter  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel, — when  the  sign  of  the 
Son  of  Man  is  to  be  displayed  in  the  heavens, — when 


(    27    ) 

the  tribes  of  the  earth  shall  be  seized  with  consternation, 
seeing  him  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  with  power 
and  great  glory; — every  one  admits,  tliat  the  coming 
thus  foretold  in  the  30th  verse,  is  to  succeed  those  dis- 
orders in  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  mentioned  in  the 
29th.  Darkness  in  the  sun  and  moon,  and  a  falling  of 
the  stars,  were  images  in  frequent  and  familiar  use 
among  the  Jewish  prophets,  to  denote  the  overthrow  of 
great  empires,  or  the  fall  of  mighty  potentates ;  and  there 
is  nothing  in  the  images  themselves  to  connect  them 
with  one  event  of  this  kind  rather  than  anodier.  But  if 
we  recur  to  the  parallel  passage  of  St.  Luke's  gospel, 
we  shall  find,  that  before  these  signs  in  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars,  our  Lord  had  mentioned  that  Jerusalem  is  to 
be  trodden  down  of  the  Gentiles,  until  the  times  of  the 
Gentiles  be  fulfilled ;  that  is,  till  the  time  shall  come  for 
that  accession  of  new  converts  from  the  Gentiles,  which, 
as  St.  Paul  intimates,  is  to  follow  the  restoration  of  the 
converted  Jews.  "  If  the  fall  of  them,"  (the  Jews),  says 
St.  Paul,  "  be  the  riches  of  the  world,  and  the  dimi- 
nishing of  them  the  riches  of  the  Gentiles,  how  mucli 
more  their  fulness?"  After  he  had  mentioned  this  ful- 
filling of  the  times  of  the  Gentiles,  then,  according  to 
St.  Luke,  our  Lord  introduced  those  signs  in  the  sun 
and  the  heavenly  bodies.  These  signs,  therefore,  are 
not  to  take  place  till  the  time  com6  for  the  fulfilling  of 
the  Gentiles, — not,  therefore,  till  the  restoration  of  the 
Jews,  which  is  to  be  the  beginning  and  the  means  of 
that  fulfilling.  They  cannot,  therefore,  be  intended  to 
denote  the  beginnings  of  that  dispersion  of  the  Jews 
from  which  they  are  to  be  restored  when  these  signs 
take  place.  Nor  can  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man, 
which  is  still  to  succeed  these  signs,  be  his  coming  figu- 
ratively to  effect  that  dispersion  by  the  arms  of  Vespa- 
sian. The  dispersion,  I  say,  of  the  Jewish  people, 
which,  by  a  considerable  interval,  was  to  precede  these 


(    28     ) 

signs,  cannot  be  the  same  thing  with  the  coming  of  the. 
Son  of  Man,  which  is  to  follow  them. 

Upon  these  grounds,  I  conclude  that,  under  the  image 
of  these  celestial  disorders,  the  overdirow  of  some 
wicked  nations  in  the  last  ages  is  predicted ;  probably  of 
some  who  shall  pretend  to  oppose,  by  force  of  arms,  the 
return  of  the  chosen  race  to  the  holy  land,  and  the  re- 
establishment  of  their  kingdom.  And  if  this  be  the 
probable  interpretation  of  the  signs  in  the  sun  and  moon, 
the  advent  which  is  to  succeed  those  signs  can  hardly  be 
any  other  than  the  real  advent  at  the  last  day. 

In  my  first  discourse  upon  this  subject,  I  had  occa- 
sion to  obviate  an  objection  that  might  be  niised,  from 
the  declaration  which  our, Lord  subjoins  to  his  parable 
of  the  fig-tree:  "  This  generation  shall  not  puss  away  till 
all  these  things  be  fulfilled."  I  showed  that  the  words 
all  these  things  do  not  denote  all  the  particulars  of  the 
whole  preceding  prophecy,  but  all  the  things  denoted 
by  the  same  words  in  the  application  of  that  parable, — 
namely,  all  the  first  signs  which  answer  to  the  budding 
of  the  fig-tree's  leaves. 

Great  stress  has  been  laid  upon  the  expressions  with 
which,  as  St.  Matthew  reports  them,  our  Lord  intro- 
duces the  mention  of  those  signs  in  sun  and  moon  which 
are  to  precede  his  advent:  "  Immediately  after  the  tri- 
bulation  of  those  days,  shall  the  sun  be  darkened."  The 
word  immediately  may  seem  to  direct  us  to  look  for  this 
darkness  of  sun  and  moon  in  something  immediately 
succeeding  the  calamities  which  the  preceding  part  of 
the  prophecy  describes :  and  as  nothing  could  more  im- 
ynediately  succeed  the  distresses  of  the  Jewish  war,  than 
the  demolition  of  the  city  and  the  dispersion  of  the  na- 
tion, hence,  all  that  goes  before  in  St.  Matthew's  nar- 
rative of  these  discourses,  hath  been  understood  of  the 
distresses  of  the  war,  and  these  celestial  disorders  of  the 
inal  dissolution  of  the  Jewish  polity  in.  church  and  rotate ; 


(    29    ) 

which  catastrophe,  it  hath  been  thought,  our  Lord  might 
choose  to  clothe  in  "  figurative  language,  on  purpose  to 
perplex  the  unbelieving  persecuting  Jews,  if  his  dis- 
courses should  ever  fall  into  their  hands,  that  they  might 
not  learn  to  avoid  the  impending  evil."  But  we  learn 
from  St.  Luke,  that  before  our  Lord  spoke  of  these 
signs,  he  mentioned  the  final  dissolution  of  the  Jewish 
polity,  in  the  plainest  terms,  without  any  figure.  He 
had  said,  "  They,"  i.  e.  (as  appears  by  the  preceding 
sentence)  this  people  "  shall  fall  by  the  edge  of  the 
sword,  and  shall  be  led  away  captive  into  all  nations ; 
and  Jerusalem  shall  be  trodden  down  of  the  Gentiles." 
And  tQ  what  purpose  should  he  afterwards  propound  in 
a  figure  what  he  had  already  described  in  plain  words? 
Or  how  could  the  figurative  description,  thus  accompa- 
nied with  the  interpretation,  serve  the  purpose  of  con- 
founding and  perplexing?  I  apprehend,  that  ihe  whole 
difficulty  which  the  word  immediately  is  supposed  to 
create  in  that  interpretation,  which  refers  the  signs  in 
the  sun  and  moon  to  the  last  ages  of  the  world,  is 
founded  on  a  mistake  concerning  the  extent  of  that  pe- 
riod of  affliction  which  is  intended  by  the  tribulation  of 
those  days.  These  words,  I  believe,  have  been  alwaj^s 
understood  of  those  few  years  during  which  the  Roman 
armies  harassed  Judea  and  besieged  the  holy  city: 
whereas  it  is  more  agreeable  to  the  general  cast  of  the 
prophetic  language,  to  understand  them  of  the  whole  pe- 
riod of  the  tribulation  of  the  Jewish  nation, — that  whole 
period  during  which  Jerusalem  is  to  be  trodden  down. 
This  tribulation  began  indeed  in  those  days  of  the 
Jewish  war;  but  the  period  of  it  is  at  this  day  in  its 
course,  and  will  not  end  till  the  time  shall  come,  prede- 
termined in  the  counsels  of  God,  for  the  restoration  of 
that  people  to  their  ancient  seats.  This  whole  period 
will  probably  be  a  period  of  affliction,  not  to  the  Jews 
only,  but  also  ia  some  degree  to  the  Christian  church : 


{     30    } 

for  not  before  the  expiration  of  it  will  the  true  churcli 
be  secure  from  persecutions  from  without — from  cor- 
ruption, schism,  and  lieresy  within.  But  when  this 
period  shall  be  run  out, — nhen  the  destined  time  shall 
come  for  the  conversion  and  restoration  of  the  Jewish 
people, — immediately  shall  the  sun  be  darkened,  and 
the  moon  shall  not  give  her  light ;  great  commotions  and 
revolutions  will  take  place  among  the  kingdoms  of  the 
earth.  Indeed,  the  re- establishment  of  the  Jewish  king- 
dom is,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  not  likely  to  be  ef- 
fected without  great  disturbances.  By  this  interpreta- 
tion, and  I  think  in  no  other  way,  the  parallel  passages 
of  St.  Matthew,  St.  Mark,  and  St.  Luke,  may  be  brought 
exactly  to  one  and  the  same  meaning. 

I  shall  now  venture  to  conclude,  notwithstanding-  the 
great  authorities  which  incline  the  other  way,  that  the 
phhise  of  "  our  Lord's  coming,"  wherever  it  occurs  in 
his  prediction  of  the  Jewish  war,  as  well  as  in  most  other 
passages  of  the  New  Testament,  is  to  be  taken  m  its  li- 
teral meaning,  as  denoting  his  coming  in  person,  in  visi- 
ble pomp  and  glory,  to  the  general  judgment. 

Nor  is  the  belief  of  that  coming,  so  explicitly  foretold, 
an  article  of  little  moment  in  the  Christian's  creed,  how- 
ever some  who  call  themselves  Christians  may  affect 
to  slight  it.  It  is  true,  that  the  expectation  of  a  future 
retribution  is  what  ought,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  to 
be  a  sufficient  restraint  upon  ti  wise  mean's  conduct, 
though  we  were  uninformed  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
thing  will  be  brought  about,  and  ^vere  at  liberty  to  sup- 
pose that  every  individual's  lot  would  be  silently  deter- 
mined, without  any  public  entry  of  the  Almighty  Judge, 
and  without  the  formality  of  a  public  trial.  But  our 
merciful  God,  who  knows  how  feebly  the  allurements 
of  the  present  world  are  resisted  by  our  reason,  unless 
imagination  can  be  engaged  on  reason's  side,  to  paint  the 
prospect  of  future  good,  and  display  the  terror  of  future 


(     31     ) 

suffering,  hath  been  pleased  to  ordain  that  the  business 
shall  be  so  conducted,  and  the  method  of  the  business 
so  clearly  foretold,  as  to  strike  the  profane  with  awe, 
and  animate  the* humble  and  the  timid.  He  hath  warned 
us, — and  let  them  who  dare  to  extenuate  the  warning, 
ponder  the  dreadful  curse  with  which  the  book  of  pro- 
phecy is  sealed — "  If  any  man  shall  take  away  from  the 
words  of  the  book  of  this  prophecy,  God  shall  take  away 
his  pai*t  out  of  the  book  of  life ;" — God  hath  warned  us 
that  the  inquiry  into  every  man's  conduct  will  be  public, 
— Christ  himself  the  Judge, — the  whole  I'ace  of  man, 
and  the  whole  angelic  host,  spectators  of  the  awful 
scene.  Before  that  assembly,  every  man's  good  deeds 
will  be  declaicd,  and  his  most  secret  sins  disclosed.  As 
no  elevation  of  rank  will  then  .give  a  title  to  respect,  no 
obscurity  of  condition  shall  exclude  the  just  from  pub- 
lic honour,  or  screen  the  guilty  from  public  shame. 
Opulence  will  find  itself  no  longer  powerful,  poverty 
will  be  no  longer  weak ;  birth  will  no  longer  be  distin- 
guished, meanness  will  no  longer  pass  unnoticed.  The 
rich  and  poor  will  indeed  strangely  meet  together ;  when 
all  the  inequalities  of  the  present  life  shall  disappear,  and 
the  conqueror  and  his  captive— the  monarch  and  his 
subject — the  lord  and  his  .vassal— the  statesman  and  the 
peasant — the  philosopher  and  the  unlettered  hind — shall 
find  their  distinctions  to  have  been  mere  illusions.  The 
characters  and  actions  of  the  greatest  and  the  meanest 
have  in  truth  been  equally  importj/iit,  and  equally  pub- 
lic; .while  the  eye.  of  the  omniscient  God  hath  been 
equally  upon  diem  all, — while  all  are  at  last  equally 
brought  to  ans^ver  to  their  common  Judge,  and  the  an- 
gels stand  around  spectators,  equally  interested  in  the 
dooms  of  all.  The  sentence  of  every  man  will  be  pro- 
nounced by  him  wdio  cannot  be  merciful  to  those  who 
shall  have  willingly  sold  themselves  to  that  abject  bond- 
age from  which  he  died  to  purchase  their  redemption,—- 


(     32    } 

i'i'iio,  nevertheless,  having  felt  the  power  of  temptatiou^f 
knows  to  pity  them  that  have  been  tempted ;  by  him  on 
whose  mercy  contrite  frailty  may  rely — whose  anger 
hardened  impenitence  must  dread.  To  heighten  the  so- 
lemnity and  terror  of  the  business,  the  Judge  will  visi- 
bly descend  from  heaven, — the  shout  of  the  archangels 
and  the  trumpet  of  the  Lord  will  thunder  through  the 
deep, — the  dead  will  awake, — the  glorified  saints  will  be 
caught  up  to  meet  die  Lord  in  the  air ;  while  the  wicked 
will  in  vain  call  upon  the  mountains  and  the  rocks,  to 
cover  them.  Of  the  day  and  hour  when  these  things 
shall  be,  knoweth  no  man ;  but  the  day  and  hour  for 
these  things  are  fixed  in  the  eternal  Father's  counsels. 
Our  Lord  will  come, — he  will  come  unlocked  for,  and 
may  come  sooner  than  we  think. 

God  grant,  that  the  diligence  we  have  used  in  these 
meditations  may  so  fix  the  thought  and  expectation  of 
that  glorious  advent  in  our  hearts,  that  by  constant 
watchfulness  on  our  own  part,  and  by  the  powerful 
succour  of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  We  may  be  found  of  our 
Lord,  when  he  cometh,  without  spot  and  blameless! 


SERMON    IV. 


Psalm  xlv.  1. 


/  speak  of  the  things  which  I  have  made  touching  the 
King^  or  unto  the  King. 

1  HIS  forty-fifth  psalm  has,  for  many  ages,  made  a 
stated  part  of  the  public  service  of  the  church  on  this 
anniversary  festival  of  our  blessed  Lord's  nativity.* 
With  God's  assistance,  I  purpose  to  explain  to  you  its 
application,  both  in  the  general  subject,  and  in  each  par- 
ticular part,  to  this  great  occasion;  which  will  aiford 
both  seasonable  and  edifying  matter  of  discourse. 

It  is  a  poetical  composition,  in  the  form  of  an  epitha- 
lamium,  or  song  of  congratulation,  upon  the  marriage 
of  a  great  king,  to  be  sung  to  music  at  the  wedding-feast. 
The  topics  are  such  as  were  the  usual  ground- work  of 
such  gratulatory  odes  with  the  poets  of  antiquity :  they 
all  fall  under  two  general  heads — the  praises  of  the  bride- 
groom, and  the  praises  of  the  bride.  The  bridegroom 
is  praised  for  the  comeliness  of  his  person,  and  the  ur- 
banity of  his  address — for  his  military  exploits— for  the 
extent  of  his  conquests — for  the  upright  administration 
of  his  government — for  the  magnificence  of  his  court. 
The  bride  is  celebrated  for  her  high  birth — for  the  beauty 
of  her  person,  the  richness  of  her  dress,  and  her  nume- 
rous train  of  blooming  bride-maids.    It  is  foretold  that 

*  Preaehed  on  Christmas  day- 

6 


(     34    j 

the  nianiage  will  be  fruitful,  and  that  the  sons  of  the 
great  king  will  be  sovereigns  of  the  whole  earth.  In  this 
general  structure  of  the  poem,  we  find  nothing  but  the 
common  topics  and  the  common  aiTangement  of  every 
Avedding  song :  and  were  it  not  that  it  is  come  down  to 
us  in  the  authentic  collection  of  the  sacred  hymns  of  the 
Hebrew  church,  and  that  some  particular  expressions 
are  found  in  it,  which,  with  all  the^fallowance  that  can 
be  made  for  the  hyperbolisms  of  the  oriental  style  (of 
which,  of  late  years,  we  have  been  accustomed  to  hear 
more  than  is  true,  as  applied  to  the  sacred  writers),  are 
not  easily  applicable  to  the  parties,  even  in  a  royal  mar- 
riage;— were  it  not  for  such  expressions  which  occur, 
and  for  the  notorious  circumstance  that  it  had  a  distin- 
guished place  in  the  canon  of  the  Hebrew  scriptures,  we 
should  not  be  led  to  divine,  from  any  thing  in  the  general 
structure  of  the  poem,  that  this  psalm  had  reference  to 
any  religious  subject.  But  when  we  connect  these  cir- 
cumstances with  another,  which  cannot  have  escaped  the 
observation  of  any  reader  of  the  Bible,  that  the  relation 
between  the  Saviour  and  his  church  is  represented  in  the 
writings  both  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  under  the 
image  of  the  relation  of  a  husband  to  his  Vv  ife, — that  it  is 
a  favourite  image  with  all  the  ancient  prophets,  when  they 
would  set  forth  the  loving  kindness  of  God  for  the  church, 
or  the  church's  dutiful  return  of  love  to  him ;  while,  on 
the  contrary,  the  idolatry  of  the  church,  in  her  aposta- 
cies,  is  represented  as  the  adultery  of  a  married  wo- 
man,— that  this  image  has  been  consecrated  to  this  sig- 
nification by  our  Lord's  own  use  of  it,  who  describes 
God  in  the  act  of  setding  the  church  in  her  final  state  of 
peace  and  perfection,  as  a  king  making  a  marriage  for  his 
son; — the  conjecture  that  will  naturally  arise  upon  the 
recollection  of  these  circumstances  will  be,  that  this  epi- 
thalamium,  preserved  among  tlie  sacred  writings  of  the 
ancient  Jewish  church,  celebrates  no  common  marriage. 


(     35     ) 

but  the  great  mystical  wedding, — that  Christ  is  tlic 
bridegroom,  and  the  spouse  his  church.  And  this  was 
the  unanimous  opinion  of  all  antiquity,  without  excep- 
tion even  of  the  Jewish  expositors.  For  although,  with 
the  veil  of  ignorance  and  jprejudice  upon  their  under- 
standings and  their  hearts,  they  discern  not  the  comple- 
tion of  this  or  of  any  of  their  prophecies  in  the  Son  of 
Mary,  yet  they  all  allow,  that  this  is  one  of  the  prophe- 
cies which  relate  to  the  Messiah  and  Messiah's  people ; 
and  none  of  them  ever  dreamed  of  an  application  of  it 
to  the  marriage  of  any  earthly  prince. 

It  is  the  more  extraordinary,  that  there  should  have 
arisen  in  the  Christian  church,  in  later  ages,  expositors 
of  great  name  and  authority,  and  indeed  of  great  learn- 
ing, who  have  maintained,  that  the  immediate  subject  of 
the  psalrn  is  the  marriage  of  Solomon  with  Pharaoh's 
daughter,  and  can  discover  only  a  distant  reference  to 
Christ  and  the  church,  as  typified  by  the  Jewish  king  and 
his  Egyptian  bride.  This  exposition,  too  absurd  and 
gross  for  Jewish  blindness,  contrary  to  the  unanimous 
sense  of  the  fathers  of  the  earliest  ages,  unfortunately 
gained  credit,  in  a  late  age,  in  the  reformed  churches, 
upon  the  authority  of  Calvin  ;  insomuch,  that  in  an  En- 
glish translation  of  the  Bible,  which  goes  under  the 
name  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  Bible,  because  it  was  in 
common  use  in  private  families  in  act  reign,  we  have 
this  argument  prefixed  to  the  psalm:  "  The  majestic 
of  Solomon,  his  honour,  strength,  beauty,  riches,  and 
power,  are  praised;  and  also  his  marriage  with  the 
Egyptian,  being  an  heathen  woman,  is  blessed."  It 
is  added,  indeed,  "  Under  this  figure,  die  wonderfull 
majestic  and  increase  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  and  his 
church  now  taken  of  the  Gentiles,  is  described."  Now 
the  account  of  this  matter  is  this :  This  English  transla- 
tion  of  the  Bible,  which  is,  indeed,  upon  the  whole,  a 
very  good  one.  and  furnished  v/itii  xcvy  edifying  note 


(    36    ) 

and  illustrations  (except  that  in  many  points  they  savour 
too  much  of  Calvinism),  was  made  and  first  published 
at  Geneva,  by  the  English  Protestants  who  fled  thither 
from  Mary's  persecutioUo  During  their  residence  there, 
they  contracted  a  veneration  for  the  character  of  Calvin, 
which  was  no  more  than  was  due  to  his  great  piety  and 
his  great  learning;  but  they  unfortunately  contracted  also 
a  veneration  for  his  opinions, — -a  veneration  more  than 
was  due  to  the  opinions  of  any  uninspired  teacher.  The 
bad  effects  of  this  unreasonable  partiality  the  church  of 
England  feels,  in  some  points,  to  the  present  day ;  and 
this  false  notion,  which  they  who  were  led  away  with  it 
circulated  among  the  people  of  this  country,  of  the  true 
subject  of  this  psalm,  in  the  argument  which  they  pre- 
sumed to  prefix  to  it,  is  one  instance  of  this  calamitous 
consequence. 

Calvin  was  undoubtedly  a  good  man,  and  a  great  di- 
vine :  but  with  all  his  great  talents  and  his  great  learning, 
he  was,  by  his  want  of  taste,  and  by  the  poverty  of  his 
imagination,  a  most  wretched  expositor  of  the  prophe- 
cies, just  as  he  would  have  been  a  wretched  expositor 
of  any  secular  poet.  He  had  no  sense  of  the  beau- 
ties, and  no  understanding  of  the  imagery  of  poetry; 
and  the  far  greater  part  of  the  prophetical  writings,  and 
all  the  psalms  without  exception,  are  poetical.  And 
there  is  no  stronger  instance  of  his  inability  in  this 
branch  of  sacred  criticism  than  his  notion  of  this  psalm. 
"  It  is  certain,"  he  has  the  arrogance  to  say,  with  all 
antiquity,  Jewish  and  Christian,  in  opposition  to  him, 
*'  it  is  certain  that  this  psalm  was  composed  concerning 
Solomon.  Yet  the  subject  is  not  dalliance ;  but,  under 
the  figure  of  Solomon,  the  holy  conjunction  of  Christ 
with  his  church  is  propounded  to  us." 

It  is  most  certain,  that,  in  the  prophetical  book  of  the 
Song  of  Solomon,  the  union  of  Christ  and  his  church  is 
^described  in  images  taken  entirely  from  the  mutual  pas- 


(    37    ) 

sion  and  early  loves  of  Solomon  and  his  Egyptian  bride. 
And  this  perhaps  might  be  the  ground  of  Calvin's  error: 
he  might  imagine,  that  this  psalm  was  another  shorter 
poem  upon  the  same  subject,  and  of  the  Same  cast. 
But  no  two  compositions  can  be  more  unlike  than  the 
Song  of  Solomon  and  this  forty-fifth  psalm.  Read  the 
Song  of  Solomon,  you  will  find  the  Hebrew  king,  if 
you  know  any  thing  of  his  history,  produced  indeed  as 
the  emblem  of  a  greater  personage,  but  you  will  find  him 
in  every  page.  Read  the  forty-fifth  psalm,  and  tell  me 
if  you  can  any  where  find  King  Solomon.  We  find,  in- 
deed, passages  which  may  be  applicable  to  Solomon,  but 
not  more  applicable  to  him  than  to  many  other  earthly 
kings, — such  as  comeliness  of  person  and  urbanity  of 
address,  mentioned  in  the  second  verse.  These  might 
be  qualities,  for  any  thing  that  we  know  to  the  contrary, 
belonging  to  Solomon; — I  say,  for  any  thing  that  we 
know  to  the  contrary  ;  for  in  these  particulars  the  sacred 
history  gives  no  information.  We  read  of  Solomon's 
learning,  and  of  his  wisdom,  and  of  the  admirable  sa- 
gacity and  integrity  of  his  judicial  decisions:  but  we 
read  not  at  all,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  of  the  extraordinary 
comeliness  of  his  person,  or  the  affability  of  his  speech. 
And  if  he  possessed  these  qualities,  they  are  no  more 
than  other  monarchs  have  possessed  in  a  degree  not  to 
be  surpassed  by  Solomon.  Splendour  and  stateliness  of 
dress,  twice  mentioned  in  this  psalm,  were  not  peculiar 
to  Solomon,  but  belong  to  every  great  and  opulent 
monarch.  Other  circumstances  might  be  mentioned, 
applicable  indeed  to  Solomon,  but  no  otherwise  than  as 
generally  applicable  to  every  king.  But  the  circum- 
stances which  are  characteristic  of  the  king  who  is  the 
hero  of  this  poem,  are  every  one  of  them  utterly  inap- 
plicable to  Solomon ;  insomuch,  that  not  one  of  them 
can  be  ascribed  to  him,  without  contradicting  the  his- 
tory of  his  reign.    The  hero  of  this  poem  is  a  warrior, 


(    38    ) 

who  girds  his  sword  upon  his  thigh,  rides  in  pursuit  of 
flying  foes,  makes  havock  among  them  with  his  sharp 
arrows,  and  reigns  at  last  by  conquest  over  his  van- 
quished enemies.  Now  Solomon  was  no  warrior:  he 
enjoyed  a  long  reign  of  forty  years  of  uninterrupted 
peace.  He  retained,  indeed,  the  sovereignty  of  the  coun- 
tries which  his  father  had  conquered,  but  he  made  no 
7iew  conquests  of  his  own.  "  He  had  dominion  over  all 
the  region  west  of  the  Euphrates,  over  all  the  kings  on 
this  side  of  the  river  (they  were  his  vassals),  and  he 
had  peace  on  all  sides  round  about  him.  And  Judah 
and  Israel  dwelt  safely,  every  man  under  his  vine,  and 
under  his  fig-tree,  from  Dan  even  to  Beersheba,  all  the 
days  of  Solomon."  If  Solomon  ever  girded  a  sword 
upon  his  thigh,  it  must  have  been  merely  for  state ;  if  he 
had  a  quiver  of  sharp  arrows,  he  could  have  had  no  use 
for  them  but  in  hunting.  We  read,  indeed,  that  Jeho- 
vah, offended  at  the  idolatries  of  Solomon  in  his  old 
age,  stirred  up  an  adversary  unto  Solomon  in  Hadad  the 
Edomite,  and  another  in  Rezon  the  Syrian,  and  a  third 
in  Jeroboam  the  son  of  Nebat.  But  though  Hadad  and 
Rezon  bore  Solomon  and  his  people  a  grudge,  there  is 
no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  enmity  of  either  broke  out 
into  acts  of  open  hostility,  during  Solomon's  life  at  least, 
—certainly  into  none  of  such  importance  as  to  engage 
the  old  monarch  in  a  war  with  either.  The  contrary  is 
evident  from  two  circumstances; — the  first,  that  the 
return  of  Hadad  into  his  country  from  Egypt  was  early 
in  the  reign  of  Solomon ;  for  he  returned  as  soon  as  he 
heard  that  David  and  Joab  were  both  dead.  And  if  this 
Edomite  had  provoked  a  war  in  so  early  a  period  of 
Solomon's  reign,  the  sacred  history  cou,ld  not  have 
spoken  in  the  terms  of  which  it  speaks  of  the  uninter- 
rupted peace  which  Israel  enjoyed  all  the  days  of  So- 
lomon. The  second  circumstance  is  this :  In  that  por- 
Tion  of  the  history  ^vhich  mentions  these  adversaries,  it 


(    39    } 

is  said  of  the  third  adversary,  Jeroboam,  "  that  he  lifted 
up  his  hand  against  the  king;"  and  yet  it  is  certain,  that 
Jeroboam  never  hfted  up  his  hand  till  Solomon  himself 
was  in  his  grave.  Solomon  was  jealous  of  Jeroboam,  as 
die  person  marked  by  the  prophet  Ahijah  as  the  future 
Icing  of  one  branch  of  the  divided  kingdom,  "  and  sought 
to  kill  him."  Jeroboam  thereupon  fled  into  Egypt,  and 
remained  there  till  the  death  of  Solomon.  And  this 
makes  it  probable  of  the  two  foreign  adversaries,  that 
whatever  hatred  might  be  rankling  in  their  hearts,  they 
awaited  for  Solomon's  death,  before  they  proceeded  to 
open  hostilities.  But,  however  that  might  be,  it  is  most 
certain,  that  the  character  of  a  warrior  and  a  conqueror 
never  less  belonged  to  any  monarch  than  to  Solomon. 

Another  circumstance  of  distinction  in  the  great  per- 
sonage celebrated  in  this  psalm,  is  his  love  of  righteous- 
ness and  hatred  of  wickedness.  The  original  expresses 
that  he  had  set  his  heart  upon  righteousness,  and  bore 
an  antipathy  to  wickedness.  His  love  of  righteousness 
and  hatred  of  wickedness  had  been  so  much  the  ruling 
principles  of  his  whole  conduct,  that  for  this  he  was  ad- 
vanced to  a  condition  of  the  liighest  bliss,  and  endless 
perpetuity  was  promised  to  his  kingdom.  The  word  we 
render  righteousness,  in  its  strict  and  proper  meaning, 
signifies  "justice,"  or  the  constant  and  perpetual  ob- 
servance of  the  natural  distinctions  of  right  and  wrong 
in  civil  society ;  and  principally  with  respect  to  property 
in  private  persons,  and,  in  a  magistrate  or  sovereign,  in 
the  impartial  exercise  of  judicial  authority.  But  the 
word  we  render  wickedness,  denotes  not  only  injustice, 
but  -whatever  is  contrary  to  moral  purity  in  the  indul- 
gence of  the  appetites  of  the  individual,  and  whatever  is 
contrary  to  a  principle  of  true  piety  towards  God.  Now 
the  word  righteousness  being  here  opposed  to  this  wic- 
kedness, must  certainly  be  taken  as  generally  as  the 
word  to  which  it  is  opposed  in  a  conti-ary  signification. 


(    40    ) 

It  must  signity,  therefore,  not  merely  "  justice,"  in  the 
.sense  we  have  explained,  but  purity  of  private  manners, 
and  piety  towards  God.  Now  Solomon  was  certainly 
upon  the  whole  a  good  king;  nor  was  he  without  piety  : 
but  his  love  of  righteousness,  in  the  large  sense  in  which 
we  have  shown  the  word  is  to  be  taken,  and  his  an- 
tipathy to  the  contrary,  fell  very  far  short  of  what  the 
psalmist  ascribes  to  his  great  king,  and  procured  for  him 
no  such  stability  of  his  monarchy.  Solomon,  whatever 
might  be  the  general  worth  and  virtue  of  his  character, 
had  no  such  predominant  attachment  to  righteousness 
nor  antipathy  to  wickedness,  in  the  large  sense  in  which 
the  words  are  taken  by  the  psalmist,  but  that  his  love  for 
the  one,  and  his  hatred  of  the  other,  were  overpowered 
by  his  doating  fondness  for  many  of  his  seven  hundred 
wives,  who  had  so  much  influence  with  him  in  his  later 
years,  that  they  turned  away  his  heart  to  other  gods, 
and  prevailed  upon  the  aged  king  to  erect  temples  to 
their  idols. 

Another  circumstance  wholly  inapplicable  to  Solomon 
is,  the  numerous  progeny  of  sons,  the  issue  of  the  mar- 
riage, all  of  whom  were  to  be  made  princes  over  all  the 
earth.  Solomon  had  but  one  son  that  we  read  of,  that 
ever  came  to  be  a  king,  his  son  and  successor  Rehoboam ; 
and  so  far  was  he  from  being  a  prince  over  all  the  earth, 
that  he  was  no  sooner  seated  on  the  throne  than  he  lost 
the  greater  part  of  his  father's  kingdom. 

Upon  the  whole,  therefore,  it  appears,  that  in  the  cha- 
racter which  the  psalmist  draws  of  the  king  whose  mar- 
riage is  the  occasion  and  the  subject  of  this  song,  some 
things  are  so  general,  as  in  a  certain  sense  to  be  appli- 
cable to  any  great  king,  of  fable  or  of  history,  of  ancient 
or  of  modem  times.  And  these  things  are,  indeed,  ap- 
plicable to  Solomon,  because  he  was  a  great  king,  but 
for  no  other  reason.  They  are  no  otherwise  applicable 
to  him,  than  to  King  Priam,  or  Agamemnon,  to  King 


(     41    ) 

Tarquin,  or  King  Herod,  to  a  king  of  Persia,  or  a  king 
of  Egypt,  a  king  of  Jewry,  or  a  king  of  England.  But 
those  circumstances  of  the  description  which  are  pro- 
perly characteristic,  are  evidendy  appropriate  to  some 
particular  king, — not  common  to  any  and  to  all.  Every 
one  of  these  circumstances,  in  the  psalmist's  description 
of  his  king,  positively  exclude  King  Solomon ;  being 
manifestly  contt-adictory  to  the  history  of  his  reign,  in- 
consistent with  the  tenor  of  his  private  life,  and  not 
verified  in  the  fortunes  of  his  fiimily.  There  are,  again, 
other  circumstances,  which  clearly  exclude  every  earthly 
king, — sue  h  as  the  salutation  of  the  king  by  the  title  of 
God,  in  a  manner  in  which  that  title  never  is  applied 
to  any  created  being;  and  the  promise  of  the  endless 
perpetuity  of  his  kingdom.  At  the  same  time  every 
particular  of  the  description,  inteipreted  according  to 
the  usual  and  established  significance  of  the  figured  style 
of  prophecy,  is  applicable  to,  and  expressive  of  some 
circumstance  in  the  mystical  union  betwixt  Christ  and 
his  church.  A  greater,  therefore,  than  Solomon  is  here; 
and  this  I  shall  show  more  particularly  in  the  sequel. 
It  is  certain,  therefore,  that  this  mystical  wedding  is  the 
sole  subject  of  this  psalm,  without  any  reference  to  the 
marriage  of  Solomon,  or  any  other  earthly  monarch  as  a 
type.  And  it  was  with  great  good  judgment,  that  upon 
the  revision  of  our  English  Bible,  in  the  reign  of  James 
the  First,  the  Calvinistic  argument  of  this  psalm,  as  it 
stood  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  Bible,  was  expunged,  and 
that  other  substituted  which  we  now  read  in  our  Bible 
of  the  larger  size,  in  these  words :  "  The  majesty  and 
grace  of  Christ's  kingdom ;  the  duty  of  the  church,  and 
the  benefits  thereof;"  which  indeed  contain  a  most  ex- 
act summary  of  the  whole  doctrine  of  the  psalm.  And 
the  particulars  of  this,  it  is  my  intention  in  future  dis- 
courses to  expound. 


SERMON    V. 


Psalm  xlv.  1. 


,/  speak  of  the  things  which  I  have  made  touching  tlie 
•     Jiing,  or  unto  the  King, 


In  iiiy  last  discourse  in  this  place,  I  undertook  to  show, 
that  the  subject  of  this  psalm  (which,  in  its  composition, 
is  evidently  in  the  form  of  an  epithalamium,  or  a  mar* 
riage  song)  is  the  connection  between  Christ  and  his 
church,  represented  here,  as  in  other  parts  of  Scripture, 
under  the  emblem  of  a  marriage.  I  undertook  to  show, 
that  this  is  the  immediate  and  single  subject  of  the  psalm, 
in  the  first  intention  of  the  author,  without  any  reference 
to  the  marriage  of  Solomon,  or  any  earthly  monarch,  as 
a  type.  But  as  this,  which  was  the  unanimous  opinion 
of  all  antiquity,  has  been  brought  into  some  degree  of 
doubt,  by  the  credit  which  a  contrary  opinion  obtained 
among  Protestants  at  the  beginning  of  the  Reformation, 
upon  the  authority  of  so  great  a  man  as  Calvin,  I  thought 
proper  to  argue  the  matter  in  some  detail ;  and  to  show» 
by  the  particulars  of  the  character  of  the  psalmist's  king, 
that  Solomon  more  especially,  but  in  tmth  every  earthly 
monarch,  is  excluded.  I  might  otherwise  have  drawn 
my  conclusion  at  once,  from  tliat  portion  of.  the  first 
verse  which  I  chose  for  my  text :  "  I  speak  of  the  thing's 
which  I  have  made  touching  the  King,  or  unto  the 
King;"  or,  as  the  original  might  be  still  more  exactly 
rendered,  "  I  address  my  performance  to  the  King."    It 


(  43  ; 

is  a  remark,  and  a  very  just  remark,  of  the  Jewish  ex- 
positors,— and  it  carries  the  more  weight  because  it 
comes  from  Jews,  who,  by  their  prejudices  against  the 
Christian  name,  might  have  thought  themselves  inter- 
ested to  keep  out  of  sight  a  principle  so  serviceable  to 
the  Christian  scheme  of  interpretation, — but  it  is  their 
remark,  and  their  principle,  that  the  appellation  of  "  the 
King,"  in  the  book  of  Psalms,  is  an  appropriate  title  of 
the  Messiah ;  insomuch,  that  wherever  it  occurs,  except 
the  context  directs  it  to  some  special  meaning,  you  are 
to  think  of  no  earthly  king,  but  of  the  King  Messiah. 
By  the  admission,  therefore,  of  these  Jewish  commen- 
tators, the  Messiah  is  the  immediate  subject  of  this 
psahn. 

My  anxiety  to  settle  the  question  of  the  immediate 
subject  of  this  psalm,  was  for  the  sake  of  the  greater 
evidence  and  perspicuity  of  the  exposition  of  the  whole, 
verse  by  verse,  which  I  am  now  about  to  deliver:  for 
without  a  right  comprehension  of  the  general  subject,  it 
will  be  impossible  that  the  parts  should  "be  understood. 
And  yet  the  psalm  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  most  import- 
ant to  be  well  understood  in  all  its  parts,  of  any  in  the 
whole  collection.  Farther,  to  settle  this  point  of  the 
general  subject  of  the  psalm,  I  must  observe,  and  desire 
you  to  bear  it  in  remembrance,  that  in  the  prophecies  of 
the  Old  Testament,  which  set  forth  the  union  between 
the  Redeemer  and  his  church,  under  the  figure  of  the 
state  of  wedlock,  we  read  of  two  celebrations  of  that 
mystical  wedding,  at  very  different  and  distant  seasons ; 
or,  to  be  more  distinct  and  particular,  we  read  of.  a  mar- 
riage— a  separation,  on  account  of  the  woman's  incon- 
tinence, i.  e.  on  account  of  her  idolatry— and,  in  the 
end,  of  a  remarriage  with  the  woman  reclaimed  and 
pardoned.  The  original  maniage  was  contracted  with 
the  Hebrew  church,  by  the  institution  of  the  Mosaic 
covenant,  at  the  time  of  the  ExoduSj  as  we  are  taught 


(     44     ) 

expressly  by  the  prophets  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel.  The 
separation  was  the  dispersion  of  the  Jewish  nation  by  the 
Rom-ns,  when  they  were  reduced  to  that  miserable  state 
in  which  to  this  day  they  remain, — their  city  laid  in 
ruins,  their  temple  demolished  and  burned,  and  the 
forms  of  the  Mosaic  worship  abolished.  Then  it  was 
that  the  sceptre  of  ecclesiastical  sway  (for  that  is  the 
sceptre  meant  in  Jacob's  famous  prophecy)  departed 
from  Judah.  The  Jews  were  no  longer  the  depositaries 
of  the  laws  and  oracles  of  God ;  they  were  no  longer  to 
take  the  lead  in  matters  of  religion  and  worship ;  and 
the  government  even  of  the  Christian  church  of  Jerusa- 
lem remained  but  for  a  very  short  time  after  this  in  the 
hands  of  a  bishop  of  the  circumcision ; — so  strictly  was 
the  prophecy  fulfilled  of  the  departure  of -the  ecclesias- 
tical sceptre  from  Judah,  the  only  remnant  then  visibly 
extant  in  the  world  of  the  Jewish  nation.  It  is  the  same 
event  which  is  predicted  in  many  other  prophecies,  as 
the  expulsion  of  the  incontinent  wife  from  the  husband's 
house.  Her  ex'pulsion,  however,,  was  to  be  but  tempo- 
rary, though  of  long  duration:  it  was  a . separation,  as 
we  should  say  in  modern  language,  from  bed  and  board, 
— iiot  an  absolute  divorce,  such  as,  Jby  the  principles  of 
the  Mosaic  law  (which  in  this  point,  however,  was  not 
perfectly  consistent  with  the  original  divine  law  of  mar- 
riage), set  the  woman  at  liberty  to  unite  herself  to  an- 
other man,  and,  in  that  event,  prohibited  her  return  to 
her  first  husband.  On  the  contrary,  the  same  prophe- 
cies that  threatened  the  expulsion,  maintain  the  conti- 
nuance of  the  husband's  property  in  the  separated  wo- 
man, and  promise  a  reconciliation  and  final  reinstate- 
ment of  her  in  her  husband's  favour.  "  Where  is  this 
bill  of  your  mother's  divorcement?"  saith  the  prophet 
Isaiah.  The  question  implies  a  denial  that  any  such 
instrument  existed.  And  in  a  subsequent  part  of  his 
prophecies,  he  expressly  announces  the  reconciliation: 


(    45    ) 

**  Blush  not,"  saith  the  Redeemer  to  the  pardoned  wife, 
"for  .thou  shalt  not  be  brought  to  reproach;  for  thou 
shalt  forget  the  shame  of  thy  youth,  and  the  reproach  of 
thy  deserted  state  thou  shalt  no  more  remember.  For 
thy  Maker  is  thy  husband ;  Jehovah  of  Hosts  is  his 
name,  and  he  who  claims  thee  is  the  Holy  One  of  Israel. 
As  a  woman  forsaken  and  deeply  afflicted,  Jehovah  hath 
recalled  thee ;  and  as  a  wife  wedded  in  youth,  but  after- 
wards, rejected,  saith  thy  God.  For  a  small  moment 
have  I  forsaken  thee ;  but  with  great  mercies  will  I  re- 
ceive thee  again."  The  reconciliation  is  to  be  made 
publicly,  by  a  repetition  of  the  nuptial  ceremonies.  So 
we  learn  from  the  latter  part  of  the  apocalypse.  After 
Christ's  final  victory  over  the  apostate  faction,  procla- 
mation is  made  by  a  voice  issuing  from  the  throne, 
"  The  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is  come,  and  his  wife 
hath  made  herself  ready,"  i.  e.  hath  prepared  herself,  by 
penitence  and  reformation,  to  be  re-united  to  him.  And 
one  of  the  seven  angels  calls  to  St.  John,  "  Come  hither, 
and  I  will  show  thee  the  Lamb's  wife."  Then  he  shows 
him  "  the  holy  Jerusalem,"  i.  e.  the  church  of  the  con- 
verted Jews.  These  nuptials  therefore  of  the  Lamb  are 
not,  as  some  have  imagined,  a' marriage  with  a  second 
wife,  a  Gentile  church,  taken  into  the  place  of  the  Jewish, 
irrevocably  discarded :  no  such  idea  of  an  absolute  di- 
vorce is  to  be  found  in  prophecy.  But  it  is  a  public  re- 
conciliation with  the  original  wife,  the  Hebrew  church, 
become  the  mother  church  of  Christendom,  notified  by 
the  ceremony  of  a  remarriage ;  for  to  no  other  than  the 
reconciled  Hebrew  church  belongs  in  prophecy  the  au- 
gust character  of  the  Queen  Consort.  The  season  of 
this  renewed  marriage  is  the  second  a^dvcnt,  when  the 
new  covenant  will  be  established  with  the  natural  Israel; 
and  it  is  this  remarriage  wliich  is  the  proper  subject  of 
this  psalm. . 


(    46    ) 

And  this  again  I  might  have  concluded,  according  to 
the  prmciplcs  of  the  Jewish  expositors,  from  my  text ; 
which,  b5^  the  single  word  "  the  King,"  directs  the  ap- 
plication of  this  psalm  to  Christ  in  his  kingly  character. 
Christ,  indeed,  already  exercises  his  regal  office  in  his 
care  and  government  of  his  church :  but  the  second  ad- 
vent is  the  season  when  his  glory  and  majesty  will  be 
openly  manifested  to  the  whole  world,  and  the  |ews  vi- 
sibly reinstated  in  his  favour.  Thejiiarriage,  therefore, 
which  is  the  peculiar  subject  of  this  psalm,  must  be 
that  re- union  of  the  Saviour  with  the  Jewish  church, 
which  is  to  take  place  at  that  season. 

Never  losing  sight  of  this,  as  his  proper  subject,  the 
divine  i^oet,  takes,  hovrever,  an  ample  range:  for  he 
opens  with  our  Lord's  first  appearance  in  the  flesh,  when, 
by  the  promulgation  of  the  gospel,  the  guests  were  sum- 
moned to  the  wedding- supper;  and  running  rapidly,  but 
in  order,  through  all  the  different  periods  of  Christianity, 
from  its  first  beginning  to  its  coilsummation  in  this  spi- 
ritual wedding,  he  makes  the  general  outline  of  its  divine 
history  the  ground- work  of  this  highly  mystic  and  im- 
portant song ;  to  the  exposition  of  which,  without  far- 
ther  preface,  I  shall  now  proceed. 

The  psalm  takes  its  beginning  in  a  plain  unaffected 
manner,  with  a  verse  briefly  declarative  of  the  import- 
ance of  the  subject,  the  author's  extraordinary  know- 
ledge of  it,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  will  be  treated. 

"  My  heart  is  inditing  a  good  matter;" 
or  rather, 

"  My  heart  labours  with  a  goodly  theme ;" 
for  the  word  "  inditing"  answers  but  poorly,  as  our 
translators  themselves  appear  from  their  margin  to  have 
been  well  aware,  to  the  emphasis  of  the  original,  -which 
expresses,  that  the  mind  of  the  prophet  was  excited  and 
heated,  boiling  over,  as  it  were,  with  his  subject,  and 


(    47    } 

eager  to  give  utterance  to  its  great  conceptions.  "A  good 
matter,"  or  "  a  goodly  theme,"  denotes  a  subject  of  the 
highest  interest  and  importance. 

"  My  heart  labours  with  a  goodly  theme." 

"  I  address  my  performance  to  the  king;"  that  is,  as 
hath  been  abundantly  explained,  to  the  great  King 
Messiah. 

"  My  tongue  is  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer;"  that  is, 
of  a  well-instructed  writer, — a  writer  prepared  and 
ready,  by  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  subject  he  under- 
takes to  treat. 

But  with  what  sense  and  meaning  is  it,  that  the 
psalmist  compares  his  "  tongue"  to  the  "  pen"  of  such 
a  writer?  It  is  to  intimate,  as  I  apprehend,  that  what 
he  is  about  to  deliver  is  no  written  composition,  but  an 
extemporaneous  effusion,  without  any  premeditation  of 
his  own,  upon  the  immediate  impulse  and  suggestion  of 
the  Holy  Spirit:  that  what  will  fall,  however,  in  that 
manner  from  his  "  tongue,"  for  the  coherence  and  im- 
portance of  the  matter,  for  the  correct  propriety  of  the 
expression,  and  for  the  orderly  arrangement  of  the  parts, 
will  in  no  degree  fall  short  of  the  most  laboured  produc- 
tion of  the  *'  pen"  of  any  writer,  the  best  prepared  by 
previous  study  of  his  subject ;  inasmuch  as  the  Spirit  of 
God  inspires  his  thoughts,  and  prompts  his  utterance. 

After  this  brief  preface,  declaring  that  his  subject  is 
Messiah,  chiefly  in  his  kingly  character, — that  he  cannot 
contain  the  thoughts  which  are  rising  in  his  mind, — that 
he  speaks  not  from  himself,'  or  from  previous  study,  but 
from  inspiration  at  the  moment, — he  plunges  at  once 
into  the  subject  he  had  propounded,  addressing  the 
King  Messiah,  as  if  he  were  actually  standing  in  the 
royal  presence.  And  in  this  same  strain,  indeed,  the 
whole  song  proceeds ;  as  referring  to  a  scene  present  to 
the  prophet's  eye,  or  to  things  which  he  saw  doing. 

This  scene  consists  of  three  principal  parts,  rehting 


(     48     ) 

to  three  grand  divisions  of  the  whole  interval  of  timc^ 
from  our  Lord's  first  appearance  in  the  flesh,  to  the  final 
triumph  of  the  church,  upon  his  second  advent.  And 
the  psalm  may  be  divided  into  as  many  sections,  in 
which  the  events  of  these  periods  are  described  in  their 
proper  order. 

The  first  section,  consisting  only  of  the  second  verse, 
describes  our  Lord  on  earth,  in  the  days  of  hils  humilia- 
tion. The  five  following  verses  make  the  second  sec- 
tion, and  describe  the  successful  propagation  of  the 
gospel,  and  our  Lord's  victory  over  all  his  enemies. 
This  comprehends  the  whole  period  from  our  Lord's 
ascension  to  the  time  not  yet  arrived  of  the  fulfilling  of 
the  Gentiles.  The  sequel  of  the  psalm,  from  the  end  of 
the  seventh  verse,  exhibits  the  remarriage, — that  is,  the 
restoration  of  the  converted  Jews  to  the  religious  prero- 
gative of  their  nation. 

The  second  verse,  describing  our  Lord  in  the  days  of 
his  humiliation,  may  seem  perhaps  to  relate  merely  to 
his  person,  and  the  manner  of  his  address. 

"  Thou  art  fairer  than  the  children  of  men ;" 
rather, 

"  Thou  art  adorned  with  beauty  beyond  the  sons  of 
men; 

"  Grace  is  poured  upon  thy  lips ; 

"  Therefore  God  hath  blessed  thee  for  ever.'^  . 

We  have  no  account  in  the  gospels  of  our  Saviour's 
person.  Some  writers  of  an  early  age  (but  none  so  early 
as  to  have  seen  him)  speak  of  it  as  wanting  dignity,  and 
of  his  physiognomy  as  unpleasing.  It  would  be  difficult, 
I  believe,  to  find  any  better  foundation  for  this  strange 
notion,  than  an  injudicious  interpretation  of  certain  pro- 
phecies, in  a  literal  meaning,  which  represent  the  humi^ 
liation  which  the  Son  of  God  was  to  undergo,  by  cloth- 
ing his  divinity  with  flesh,  in  images  taken  from  per- 
sonal deformity.    But.  from  what  is  recorded  in  the 


i    49     ) 

•iospeis,  of  the  ease  with  which  our  Saviour  mixed  iii 
what  in  the  modern  style  we  should  call  good  company, 
— of  the  respectful  attention  shown  to  him,  l:)eyond  any 
thing  his  reputed  birth  or  fortune  might  demand, — and 
the  manner  in  whicli  his  discourses,  either  of  severe  re- 
proof or  gentle  admonition,  were  received, — we  may 
reasonably  conclude,  that  he  had  a  dignity  of  exterior 
appearance  remarkably  corresponding  with  that  authority 
of  speech,  which,  upon  some  occasions,  impressed  even 
his  enemies  with  awe,  and  with  that  dignified  mildness 
which  seems  to  have  been  his  more  natural  and  usual 
tone,  and  drew  the  applause  and  admiration  of  all  ^vho 
heard  him.  "  Never  man  spake  like  this  man,"  was  the 
confession  of  his  enemies ;  and,  upon  his  first  appearance 
in  the  synagogue  at  Nazareth,  when  he  had  finished  his 
exposition  of  a  certain  text  of  Isaiah,  which  he  applied 
to  himself,  "  All  bare  him  witness,  and  wondered  at  the 
gracious  words  which  proceeded  out  of  his  mouth," 
Thus,  without  knowing  it,  the  congregation  attested  the 
completion  of  this  prophecy  of  the  psalmist,  in  one 
branch  of  it, — in  the  "  grace"  which  literally,  it  seems, 
was  "  poured  upon  his  lips."  But  certainly  it  must 
have  been  something  externalh-  striking, — something 
answering  to  the  text  of  the  psalmist  in  the  former 
branch,  *'  Adorned  with  beauty  beyond  the  sons  of 
men,"  which,  upon  the  same  occasion,  before  his  dis- 
course began; — it  must  have  been  something,  I  say, 
prepossessing  in  his  features,  and  something  of  dignity 
in  person,  which,  v/hile  he  was  yet  silent,  "  fastened  the 
eyes  of  all  that  were  in  the  synagogue  upon  him," — that 
is,  upon  the  village  carpenter's  reputed  son ;  for  in  no 
higher  character  he  yet  was  known.  We  may  conclude, 
therefore,  that  this  prophetic  text  had  a  completion,  in 
the  literal  and  superficial  sense  of  the  words,  in  both  its 
branches, — in  the  beauty  of  our  Saviour's  person,  no  -v, 
less  than  in  the  {rracjoiisness  of  his  speech,  '  /  ^^ 


(     ^0     } 

External  fealure,  however,  is  generally  the  impression 
of  the  mind  upon  the  body,  and  words  are  but  the  echo 
of  the  thoughts;  and,  in  prophecy,  more  is  usually 
meant  than  meets  the  ear,  in  the  first  sound  and  most 
obvious  sense  of  the  terms  employed.  Beauty  and  grace 
of  speech  are  certainly  used  in  this  text  as  figures  of 
much  higher  qualities,  which  were  conspicuous  in  our 
Lord,  and  in  him  alone  of  all  the  sons  of  men.  That 
image  of  God  in  which  Adam  was  created,  in  our  Lord 
appeared  perfect  and  entire, — in  the  unspotted  innocency 
of  his  life,  the  sanctity  of  his  manners,  and  his  perfect 
obedience  to  the  law  of  God, — in  the  vast  pov/ers  of  his 
mind,  intellectual  and  moral;  intellectual,  in  his  com- 
prehension of  all  knowledge ;  moral,  in  his  power  of  re- 
sisting all  the  allurements  of  vice,  and  of  encountering 
all  the  difficulties  of  virtue  and  religion,  despising  hard- 
ship and  shame,  enduring  pain  and  death.  This  was  the 
beauty  with  which  he  was  adorned  beyond  the  sons  of 
men.  In  liim,  the  beauty  of  the  Divine  image  was  re- 
fulgent in  its  original  perfection ;  in  all  the  sons  of  Adam, 
obscured  and  marred,  in  a  degree  to  be  scarce  discerni- 
ble,— the  will  depraved,  the  imagination  debauched,  the 
reason  weak,  the  passions  rampant!  This  deformity  is 
not  externally  visible,  nor  the  spiritual  beauty  which  is 
its  opposite  :  but,  could  the  eye  be  turned  upon  the  in- 
ternal man,  we  should  see  the  hideous  shape  of  a  will 
at  enmity  with  God — a  heart  disregarding  his  law,  in- 
sensible of  his  goodness,  fearless  of  his  wrath,  swelling 
v/ith  the  passions  of  ambition,  avarice,  vain-glory,  lust. 
Yet  ibis  is  the  picture  of  the  unrcgenerated  man,  by  the 
depravity  consequent  upon  the  fall,  born  in  iniquity, 
and  conceived  in  sin.  Christ,  on  the  contrary,  by  the 
mysterious  manner  of  his  conception,  was  born  without 
spot  of  sin ;  he  grew  up  and  lived  full  of  grace  and  truth, 
perfecdy  sanctified  in  flesh  and  spirit.  With  this  beauty 
he  was  "  adorned  beyond  the  sons  of  men." 


(    51    ) 

Again,  the  gracefulness  of  his  speech  is  put  figuia- 
lively  for  the  perfection,  sublimity,  excellence,  and 
sweetness  of  the  doctrine  he  delivered; — a  doctrine,  in 
truth,  inti'insically  perfect ;  sublime,  as  being  far  above 
the  discovery  of  human  wisdom;  excellent,  by  it  salu- 
tary effects  and  operation  upon  men,  raising  their  minds 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God, — to  a  knowledge  of 
his  nature,  as  far  as  a  nature  so  distinct  from  matter — 
so  remote  from  sense — so  transcending  reason,  can  be 
made  intelligible  to  man,  united  to  matter — perceiving 
by  sense  what  immediately  sun^ounds  him,  but  con- 
templating at  a  distance  only  the  objects  of  pure  intel- 
lect;— a  doctrine  sw^eeter  to  the  regenerate  soul  than 
honey  and  the  honey- comb  to  the  palate,  by  the  disclo- 
sure of  the  great  scheme  of  redemption  in  all  its  branches 
— the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  Man — -the  atonement 
for  sin  by  his  death — the  efficacy  of  his  intercession — 
the  constant  supply  of  succour  from  the  Holy  Spirit, 
This  doctrine,  cherishing  the  contrite,  consoling  the  af- 
flicted, banishing  despair,  raising  the  fallen,  justifying 
sinners,  giving  life  to  the  dead, — in  a  word,  the  glad 
tidings  of  salvation, — this  is  the  "  grace"  which  is  poured 
over  the  "  lips"  of  the  Son  of  God. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  that  the  happiness  and  glory  to 
which  the  human  nature  is  advanced  in  the  person  of 
Jesus,  the  man  united  to  the  Godhead,  and  now  seated 
with  the  Father  on  his  throne,  is  always  represented  in 
holy  writ  as  the  reward  of  that  man's  obedience.  In 
conformity  with  this  notion,  the  psalmist  says,  "  There- 
fore,"— for  this  reason,  in  reward  of  the  holiness  per- 
fected in  thy  own  life,  and  thy  gracious  instruction  of 
sinners  in  the  ways  of  righteousness,  "  God  hath  blessed 
thee  for  ever," — hath  raised  thee  from  the  dead,  and  ad- 
vanced thee  to  endless  bliss  and  glory. 

Thus  the  psalmist  closes  his  brief  description  of  our 
Lord  on  earth,  in  the  days  of  his  hymiliation,  with  the 


(     52    -j 

mention  equally  brief,  but  equally  comprehensive,  of  th^ 
exaltation  in  which  it  terminated. 

He  proceeds  to  the  second  great  period  in  the  divine 
history  of  Christianity,  the  successful  propagation  of  the 
gospel,  and  our  Lord's  final  victory  over  all  his  advcrsa^ 
ries,— -a  work  gradually  accomplished,  and  occupying 
the  whole  interval  of  time  from  his  ascension,  to  the 
epoch,  not  yet  arrived,  of  the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles 
coming  in. 

From  the  commendation  of  the  comeliness  of  the 
king's  person,  and  the  graciousness  of  his  speech,  the 
psalmist,  in  the  same  figurative  style,  passes  to  the  topic 
of  his  prowess  as  a  warrior,  under  which  character  our 
Lord  is  perpetually  described  in  the  prophecies.  The 
enemies  he  had  to  engage  ai'c  the  wicked  passions  of 
men,  the  Devil  in  his  wiles  and  machinations,  and  the 
persecuting  powers  of  the  world.  The  warfare  is  con- 
tinued through  the  whole  of  the  period  I  have  mentioned, 
commencing  upon  our  Lord's  ascension,  at  which  time 
he  is  represented,  in  the  Revelations,  as  going  forth  upon 
a  "  white  horse,  with  a  crown  upon  his  head,  and  a  bow 
in  his  hand,  conquering  and  to  conquer."  The  psalmist, 
in  imagery  almost  the  same,  accosts  him  as  a  warlike 
prince  preparing  to  take  the  field, — describes  his  wea- 
pons, and  the  magnificence  of  his  armour,  and  promises 
him  victory  and  universal  dominion. 

3.  "  Gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh, 

"  O  most  mighty !  with  thy  glory  and  thy  majesty." 

This  verse,  I  fear,  must  be  but  ill  understood  by  the 
iMiglish  reader.  The  words  "  O  most  mighty!"  very 
weakly  render  the  original,  \vhich  is  a  single  word,  one 
of  the  tides  of  Christ,  in  its  literal  sense  expressive  of 
might  and  valour.  But  the  great  difficult  which,  in  my 
apprehension,  must  perplex  the  English  reader,  lies  in 
the  exhortation  to  gird  on  glory  and  majesty  together 
with  the  sv/ord.     The  things  have  Jio  obvious  connec- 


I 


(     5S     ) 

lion ;  and  how  are  majesty  and  glory,  in  any  sense  Avhich 
die  words  may  bear  in  our  language,  to  be  girt  on  upon 
the  person  ?  The  truth  is,  that  in  the  Hebrew  language, 
these  words  have  a  great  variety  and  latitude  of  meaning ; 
and  either  these  very  words,  or  their  synonymes,  arc 
used  in  other  places  for  splendid  dress,  and  for  robes  of 
state ;  and  being  things  to  be  girt  on,  they  must  here  de- 
note some  part  of  the  warrior's  dress.  They  signify 
such  sort  of  armour,  of  costly  materials  and  exquisite 
workmanship,  as  was  worn  by  the  greatest  generals,  and 
by  kings  when  they  led  their  armies  in  person ;  and  was 
contrived  for  ornament  as  well  as  safety.  The  whole 
verse  might  be  intelligibly  and  yet  faithfully  rendered  in 
these  words : 

"  Warrior !  gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh ; 

"  Buckle  on  thy  refulgent  dazzling  armour." 
The  psalmist  goes  on : 

4.  ''  Take  aim,  be  prosperous,  pursue, 

"  In  the  cause  of  truth,  humility,  and  righteous- 
ness;" 
that  is,  take  aim  with  thy  bow  and  arrow  at  the  enemy ; 
be  prosperous  or  successful  in  the  aim  taken ;  ride  on 
in  pursuit  of  the  flying  foe,  in  the  cause  of  religious 
truth,  evangelical  humility,  and  righteousness, 

"  And  thy  right  hand  shall  teach  thee  terrible  things;" 
rather, 

"  And  thy  own  right  hand  shall  shov/  thee  wonderful 
things." 

In  these  last  words,  the  Saviour,  effecting  every  thing 
by  his  own  power,  is  represented  under  the  image  of  a 
great  champion  in  the  field,  who  is  prompted  by  his  own 
courage,  and  a  reliance  on  his  own  strength  and  skill,  to 
attempt  what  might  seem  impracticable ;  singly  to  attack 
whole  squadrons  of  the  enemy, — to  cut  his  way  through 
their  embattled  troops, — to  scale  their  ramparts  and  their 
\\-alls — and  at  last  achieves  what  seems  a  wonder  to 


{    54    ) 

himself,  when  the  fray  is  over,  when  he  is  at  leisure  t© 
survey  the  buhvarks  he  has  demoUshed,  and  the  many 
carcasses  his  single  arm  has  stretched  upon  the  plain, 
l^uch  gi'eat  things  he  will  be  able  to  effect ;  for 

5.  "  Thine  arrows,"   saith  the  psalmist,  "  are  very 
sharp 
"  In  the  heart  of  the  king's  enemies ; 
"  Insomuch  that  peoples  fall  under  thee." 

To  open  the  true  spiritual  meaning  of  all  this  high- 
wrought  imagery,  will  be  ample  matter  for  another  dis- 
course. I  shall  close,  therefore,  for  the  present,  with 
this  preliminary  observation,  as  the  fundamental  princi- 
ple of  the  interpretation  which  by  God's  assistance  I 
shall  give,  That  the  war  in  which  the  Saviour  is  en- 
gaged is  very  different  from  the  wars  which  the  princes 
of  this  world  wage  upon  one  another :  it  is  not  for  the 
destruction  of  the  lives  of  men,  but  for  the  preservation 
pf  their  souls. 


SERMON    VI. 


Psalm  xlv.  1. 


/  speak  of  the  thmgs  which  I  have  made  touching  the 
King,  or  unto  the  King. 


In  my  last  discourse,  I  proceeded  so  far  in  my  exposi- 
tion of  this  mystic  marriage  song,  as  to  enter  upon  what 
I  reckon  the  second  section  of  the  whole  psalm ;  con- 
sisting of  five  verses,  from  the  third  to  the  seventh,  both 
inclusive ;  in  which,  under  images  taken  from  military 
exploits,  the  successful  propagation  of  the  gospel  is  de- 
scribed, through  the  whole  of  that  period  which  com- 
menced at  our  Lord's  ascension,  and  will  terminate  with 
the  triumphs  of  the  church  at  his  second  advent. 

From  the  commendation  of  the  comeliness  of  the 
king's  person,  and  the  graciousness  of  his  speech,  which, 
in  the  second  verse,  are  put  figuratively  for  the  perfect 
innocence  and  sanctity  of  our  Lord's  life  on  earth,  and 
the  sweetness  of  his  gracious  doctrine  of  pardon,  peace, 
and  justification,  the  psalmist,  persevering  in  the  same 
figurative  strain,  passes  to  the  topic  of  his  royal  bride- 
groom's military  prowess.  He  accosts  the  king  as  a 
warlike  prince,  preparing  to  take  the  field, — describes 
his  weapons,  and  the  magnificence  of  his  armour,  and 
promises  him  victory  and  universal  dominion. 

I  shall  now  endeavour  to  open  and  explain  to  you, 
with  God's  assistance,  the  true  spiritual  meaning  of  all 
this  high-wrought  imagery.     But  first  I  must  repeat. 


(     56     ) 

with  some  enlargement  and  explanation,  as  the  funda 
mental  principle  of  the  interpretation  I  am  about  to  give, 
the  observation  with  which  I  closed  my  last  discourse, 
— namely,  that  the  war  in  which  the  psalmist  represents 
the  Saviour  as  engaged,  is  very  different  from  the  wars 
which  the  princes  of  this  world  wage  with  one  anotlier :. 
it  is  not  for  the  destruction  of  the  lives  of  men,  but  for 
the  preservation  of  their  souls.  It  may  happen  indeed, 
— it  has  happened  heretofore, — in  our  own  times  it  has 
happened,  and  it  will  inevitably  happen  agaiu,  that  the 
struggles  of  Christianity,  with  the  adverse  faction,  may 
kindle  actual  war  between  the  secular  powers,  taking 
part  on  one  side  or  on  the  other.  This  our  Lord  him- 
self foretold.  "  Suppose  ye,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  come 
to  give  peace  on  earth?  I  came  not  to  send  peace,  but 
a  sword."  Such  wars  ai'e,  on  the  one  side,  no  less  holy, 
just,  and  good,  than,  on  the  other,  they  are  wicked  and 
impious ;  for  when  the  antichristian  powers  attack  reli- 
gious establishments  by  the  sword,  by  the  sword  they 
may  and  must  be  defended.  It  is  the  mere  cant  of  pu- 
ritanism  to  allege  the  precept  of  mutual  forgiveness,  the 
prohibitions  of  returning  evil  for  evil,  and  of  resisting 
persecution,  as  reprobating  such  wars.  All  those  in- 
junctions relate  to  the  conduct  of  individuals  with  respect 
to  one  another,  or  widi  respect  to  the  government  of 
which  they  are  subjects.  The  individual  is  to  be  ready 
at  all  times  to  forgive  his  personal  enemies :  he  is  not  to 
indulge  a  spirit  of  revenge  in  the  retaliation  of  private 
injuries;  and  least  of  all  is  he  to  resist  by  force  even  the 
injustice,  as  affecting  himself^  of  liis  lawful  sovereign- 
But  when  Antichrist  arms  his  powers  for  the  persecution 
of  tlie  faithful  and  die  extinction  of  llic  Kiith,  if  Chris- 
tian princes  arm  their  powers  to  oppose  him,  their  war 
is  godly,  and  their  cause  is  blessed.  These  wars,  how- 
ever, are  not  within  the  purview  of  diis  prophecy,  as  the 
sequel  of  my  discourse  will  show.     This  prophetic  text 


(    57    ) 

of  the  psalmist  relates  only  to  that  spiritual  war  which 
Christ  wages  with  the  enemies  of  man,  for  man's  deli- 
verance,—to  the  war  arising  from  that  enmity  which  was 
originally  put  between  the  seed  of  the  serpent  and  the 
woman's  seed. 

The  offensive  weapons  in  this  war  of  charity,  ac- 
cording to  the  psalmist,  are  of  two  sorts, — a  sword, 
and  arrows. 

The  common  military  sword  is  a  heavy  massive 
weapon,  for  close  engagement :  wielded  by  a  strong  and 
skilful  arm,  it  stabs  and  cuts,  opens  dreadful  gashes 
where  it  falls,  severs  limbs,  lops  the  head,  or  cleaves  the 
body. 

The  arrow  is  a  light  missile  weapon,  which,  in  ancient 
times,  was  used  to  annoy  the  enemy  at  a  distance,  and 
particularly  when  put  to  flight.  It  comes  whizzing 
through  the  air  unseen;  and,  when  it  hits,  so  small  is 
the  wound,  and  so  swift  the  passage  of  the  weapon,  that 
it  is  scarcely  felt,  till  it  fixes  its  sharp  point  in  the  very 
heart. 

Now  both  these  weapons,  the  sword  and  the  arrow, 
are  emblems  of  one  and  the  same  thing ;  which  is  no 
other  than  the  word  of  God,  in  its  different  effects,  and 
different  manners  of  operation  on  the  minds  of  men,  re- 
presented under  these  two  different  images. 

The  word  of  God  may  be  divided,  indeed,  into  two 
parts, — the  word  of  reproof,  commination,  and  terror ; 
and  the  word  of  persuasion,  promise,  and  hope.  The 
former  holds  up  to  the  sinner  the  picture  of  himself, — 
sets  forth  the  turpitude  of  sin — the  holiness  of  God- 
God's  hatred  of  unrighteousness, — and  alai'ms  the  con- 
science with  the  danger  of  a  state  of  enmity  ^vith  God, 
and  with  denunciations  of  implacable  wrath  and  endless 
punishment. 

The  second,  the  word  of  persuasion,   promise,   and 
hope,  sets  before  the  penitent  the  riches  of  God's  mercy, 
9 


(    58    ) 

displayed  in  the  scheme  of  man's  redemption, — points 
to  the  cross,  where  man's  guilt  was  expiated, — bids  the 
contrite  sinner  rely  on  the  Redeemer's  intercession, — 
offers  the  daily  supply  of  grace  to  confirm  him  in  his 
resolutions,  and  assist  him  in  his  efforts  to  conform  him- 
self to  the  precepts  and  example  of  the  Saviour, — and 
promises  victory  and  glory  to  them  that  persevere  :  thus 
turning  despondency  into  hope,  and  fear  into  love. 

The  first,  the  word  of  terror,  is  the  sword  girt  upon 
Messiah's  thigh ;  the  second,  the  word  of  persuasion,  is 
the  arrow  shot  from  his  bow. 

For  the  sense  of  the  first  metaphor,  we  have  the  au- 
thority of  the  sacred  writers  themselves.  "  The  sword 
of  the  spirit,"  says  St.  Paul  to  the  Ephesians,  "  is  the 
word  of  God."  And  in  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  the 
full  signification  of  the  figure  is  opened,  and  the  propriety 
of  the  application  shown  :  "  For  the  word  of  God,"  says 
the  inspired  author,  "  is  quick  and  powerful  (rather, 
lively  and  energetic),  and  sharper  than  any  two-edged 
sword,  and  piercing  to  the  parting  of  soul  and  spirit,  and 
to  the  joints  and  marrow  ;"^^ — that  is,  as  the  soldier's 
sword  of  steel  cuts  through  all  the  exterior  integuments 
of  skin  and  muscle,  to  the  bone,  and  even  through  the 
hard  substance  of  the  bone  itself,  to  the  very  marrow,- 
and  divides  the  ligaments  which  keep  the  joints  of  the 
body  together ;  so  this  spiritual  sword  of  God's  awful 
word  penetrates  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  human  mind 
— pierces  to  the  very  line  of  separation,  as  it  were,  of 
the  sensitive  and  the  intelligent  principle — lops  off  the 
animal  part — divides  the  joints  where  reason  and  passion 
are  united — sets  the  intellect  free  to  exert  its  powers — 
kills  sin  in  our  members — opens  passages  for  grace  tO' 
enter  and  enrich  the  marrow  of  the  soul,  and  thus  de- 
livers the  man  from  his  body  of  death. 

f  Such  are  the  effects  for  which  the  powerful  word  of 

'  terror  is  compared  to  a  two-edged  sword. 


(    59    ) 

The  comparison  of  the  word  of  promise  to  the  arrotv' 
is  more  easily  understood;  being  more  familial',  and 
analogous  to  those  figures  of  speech  which  run  through 
all  languages,  by  which,  whatever  makes  a  quick  and 
smart  impression  on  the  moral  feelings,  is  represented 
under  the  image  of  a  pointed  missile  weapon, — as  when 
we  speak  of  *'  the  thrilling  darts  of  harmony,"  or  "  the 
shafts  of  eloquence."  The  psalmist  speaks  of  tliese  ar- 
rows of  God's  word,  as  sticking  in  "  the  hearts  of  the 
King's  enemies," — that  is,  of  the  enemies  of  the  King 
Messiah ;  for  he,  you  will  remember,  is  the  only  king 
in  question.  His  enemies,  in  the  highest  sense  of  the 
word,  are  -those  who  are  avowedly  leagued  with  the 
apostate  faction, — atheists,  deists,  idolaters,  heretics,  per- 
verse disputers, — those  who,  in  any  manner,  of  set  de- 
sign oppose  the  gospel — who  resist  the  truth  by  argu- 
ment, or  encounter  it  with  ridicule— -who  explain  it 
away  by  sophisticated  interpretations,  or  endeavour  to 
crush  it  by  the  force  of  persecution.  Of  such  hardened 
enemies  there  is  no  hope,  till  they  have  been  hacked 
and  hewed,  belaboured,  and  all  but  slain  (in  the  strong 
language  of  one  of  the  ancient  prophets),  by  the  heavy 
sword  of  the  word  of  terror.  But,  in  a  lower  sense,  all 
are  enemies  till  they  hear  of  Christ,  and  the  terms  of  his 
peace  are  offered  to  them.  Many  such  are  wrought 
upon  by  mild  admonition,  and  receive  in  their  hearts  the 
arrows  of  the  word  of  persuasion.  Such,  no  doubt, 
were  many  of  those  Jews  who  were  pricked  to  the  heart, 
by  St.  Peter's  first  sermon,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost: 
and  even  those  worse  enemies,  if  they  can  be  brought 
to  their  feeling  by  the  ghastly  wounds  and  gashes  of  the 
teiTific  sword  of  the  word  of  threatening,  may  afterwards 
be  pierced  by  the  arrow,  and  carry  about  in  their  hearts 
its  barbed  point.  And,  by  the  joint  effect  of  these  two 
weapons,  the  sword  and  the  arrow,  the  word  of  terror  and 
the  word  of  persuasion,  "  peoples,"  says  the  psalmist, — ■ 


(     60     ) 

that  is,  whole  kingdoms  and  nations  in  a  mass,  ^^  shall 
fall  under  thee," — shall  forsake  their  ancient  supersti- 
tions, renounce  their  idols,  and  submit  themselves  to 
Christ. 

So  much  for  the  offensive  weapons,  the  sword  and  the 
arrows.  But  the  defensive  armour  demands  our  atten- 
tion ;  for  it  has  its  use,  no  doubt,  in  the  Messiah's  war. 
His  person,  you  will  remember,  is  clad,  in  the  third 
verse,  "  with  refulgent  dazzling  armour."  This  may 
be  understood  of  whatever  is  admirable  and  amiable  in 
the  external  form  and  appearance  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion. First,  the  character  of  Jesus  himself;  his  piety 
towards  God—his  philanthropy  towards  man — his 
meekness,  humility,  ready  forgiveness  of  injuries,  pa- 
tient endurance  of  pain  and  death.  Secondly,  the  same 
light  of  good  works  shining,  in  a  less  degree,  in  the 
lives  of  his  disciples,  particularly  the  apostles  and  blessed 
martyrs.  Thirdly,  whatever  is  decent  and  seemly  in 
the  government,  the  discipline,  and  the  rites  of  the 
church.  All  these  things,  as  they  tend  to  draw  the  ad- 
miration and  conciliate  the  good  will  of  men,  and  miti- 
gate the  malice  of  the  persecutor,  are  aptly  represented 
under  the  image  of  the  Messiah's  defensive  armour,  and 
had  a  principal  share  in  the  effect  of  tnaking  "peoples  fall 
under  him." 

It  yet  remains  to  be  explained,  what  is  meant,  in  the 
psalmist's  detail  of  the  Messiah's  war,  by  those  "  won- 
ders" which  "  his  own  right  hand  was  to  show  him: 

"  Thy  own  right  hand  shall  show  thee  wonders." 
Our  public  translation  has  it  "  terrible  things."  But  the 
notion  of  terror  is  not  of  necessity  included  in  the  sense 
of  the  original  word,  as  it  is  used  by  the  sacred  writers : 
it  is  sometimes,  indeed,  applied  by  them  to  frightful 
things ;  but  it  is  also  applied,  with  great  latitude,  to  things 
extraordinary  in  their  kind — grand,  admirable,  amazing, 
awful, — although  they  should    not  be  frightful.    We 


(     61     ) 

have  no  right,  therefore,  to  take  it  in  the  strict  sense,  of 
"  frightful,"  unless  something  in  the  context  points  to 
that  meaning,  which  is  not  the  case  in  this  passage. 
And  accordingly,  instead  of  "  terrible,"  we  find,  in 
some  of  the  oldest  English  Bibles,  the  better  chosen 
word  "  wonderful." 

Now  the  "  wonderful  thijigs"  which  Messiah's  "  own 
right  hand"  showed  him,  I  take  to  be  the  overthrow  of 
the  Pagan  superstition,  in  the  Roman  empire,  and  other 
great  kingdoms  of  the  world,  by  the  mere  preaching  of 
the  gospel,  seconded  by  the  exemplary  lives  and  the  mi- 
racles of  the  first  preachers,  and  by  their  patient  endur- 
ance of  imprisonment,  torture,  and  death,  for  the  sake 
of  Christ.  It  was,  indeed,  a  wonderful  thing,  wrought 
by  Christ's  single  arm,  when  his  religion  prevailed  over 
the  whole  system  of  idolatry,  supported  as  it  was  by  the 
authority  of  sovereigns,  by  the  learning  of  philosophers, 
and  most  of  all,  by  the  inveterate  prejudices  of  the  vul- 
gar, attached  to  their  false  gods,  by  the  gratification 
which  their  very  worship  aiForded  to  the  sensual  pas- 
sions, and  by  the  natural  partiality  of  mankind  in  favour 
of  any  system,  however  absurd  and  corrupt,  sanctioned 
by  a  long  antiquity.  It  was  a  wonderful  thing,  when 
the  Devil's  kingdom,  with  much  of  its  invisible  power, 
lost  at  once  the  whole  of  its  external  pomp  and  splen- 
dour,— when  silence  being  imposed  on  his  oracles,  and 
spells  and  enchantments  divested  of  their  power,  the 
idolatrous  worship  which  by  those  engines  of  deceit  had 
been  universally  established,  and  for  ages  supported, 
notwithstanding  the  antiquity  of  its  institutions,  and  the 
bewitching  gaiety  and  magnificence  of  its  festivals,  fell 
into  neglect, — when  its  cruel  and  lascivious  rites,  so 
long  holden  in  superstitious  veneration,  on  a  sudden  be- 
came the  objects  of  a  just  and  general  abhorrence,— 
when  the  unfrequented  temples,  spoiled  of  their  im- 
mense treasures,  sunk  in  ruuis,  and  the  images,  strip! 


{     62     ) 

of  their  gorgeous  robes  and  costly  jewels,  were  thrown, 
into  the  Tyber,  or  into  the  common  receptacles  of  filth 
and  ordure.  It  was  a  wonderful  thing,  when  the  minds 
of  all  men  took  a  sudden  turn ;  kings  became  the  nurs- 
ing fathers  of  the  church, — statesmen  courted  her  alli- 
ance,— philosophy  embraced  her  faith, — and  even  the. 
sword  was  justly  drawn  in  her  defence. 

These  were  the  "  wonderful  things"  effected  by 
Christ's  right  hand;  and  in  these,  this  part  of  the 
psalmist's  prophecy  has  received  its  accomplishment. 
Less  than  this  his  words  cannot  mean ;  and  to  more  than 
this  they  cannot  with  any  certainty  be  extended :  since 
these  things  satisfy  all  diat  is  of  necessity  involved  in  his 
expressions. 

If  his  expressions  went  of  necessity  to  "  terrible 
things,"  or  were  determined  to  that  meaning  by  the  con- 
text, insomuch  that  the  inspired  author  could  be  un- 
derstood to  speak  not  of  things  simply  wonderful,  but 
wonderful  in  the  particular  way  of  being  frightful,  an 
allusion,  in  that  case,  might  easily  be  supposed  to  what 
is  indeed  the  explicit  subject  of  many  other  prophecies, 
—the  terrible  things  to  be  achieved  by  the  Messiah's 
own  right  hand,  in  the  destruction  of  Antichrist,  and 
the  slaughter  of  his  armies,  in  the  latter  ages.  The 
word  of  prophecy  forewarns  us,  and  we  have  lived  to 
see  the  season  of  the  accomplishment  set  in,  that  the 
apostate  faction  will  proceed  to  that  extreme  of  malice 
and  impiety,  as  to  levy  actual  war  against  the  nations 
professing  Christianity  :  and  after  much  suffering  of  the 
faithful,  and  bloody  struggles  of  the  contending  parties, 
our  Lord  himself  will  come  from  heaven,  visibly  and  in 
person,  to  eflect  the  deliverance  of  his  servants,  and 
with  his  own  arm  cut  off  the  antichristian  armies  with 
tremendous  slaughter.  This  is  represented  in  the  pro- 
phecies under  images  that  can  be  understood  of  nothing 
but  die  havock  of  actual  batUe.    "  The  indignation  of 


(    63     ) 

Jehovah  is  upon  all  the  heathen,"  saith  Isaiah,  "  and  his 
fury  upon  all  their  armies.  He  hath  utterly  destroyed 
them, — he  hath  delivered  them  to  the  slaughter;  and 
the  mountains  shall  be  melted  donvti  in  their  blood." 
The  prophet  Ezekiel  summons  all  ravenous  birds,  and 
all  beasts  of  prey,  "  to  assemble  and  conie  to  the  slaugh- 
ter which  Jehovah  should  make  for  them, — a  great 
slaughter  on  the  mountains  of  Israel,  (the  stage,  as  it 
should  seem,  of  Antichrist's  last  exploits,  and  of  his 
excision) ;  and  ye  shall  eat  flesh  and  drink  blood.  The 
flesh  of  warriors  ye  shall  eat,  and  the  blood  of  the 
princes  of  the  earth  ye  shall  drink.  Ye  shall  eat  fat  till 
ye  be  cloyed,  and  drink  blood  till  ye  be  drunken  (the 
fat  and  the  blood)  of  the  slaughter  which  I  have  made 
for  you."  In  the  Apocalypse,  when  the  Son  of  God 
comes  forth,  to  make  an  end  of  the  beast  and  the  false 
prophet,  and  of  the  armies  of  kings  their  confederates, 
an  angel  standing  in  the  sun  ''  cries  with  a  loud  voice  to 
all  the  fowls  that  fly  in  the  midst  of  heaven.  Come 
and  gather  yourselves  together  to  the  supper  of  the 
great  God ;  that  ye  may  eat  the  flesh  of  captains,  and  the 
flesh  of  mighty  men,  and  the  flesh  of  horses,  and  of 
them  that  sit  on  them,  and  the  flesh  of  all,  freemen  and 
slaves,  both  small  and  gieat."  Men  of  all  conditions, 
it  seems,  will  be  united  in  the  impious  coalition,  to  mak(" 
war  against  the  irresistible  conqueror  on  the  white  horse, 
and  his  army,  and  will  be  involved  in  the  great  de- 
struction. In  a  former  vision,  relating  to  the  same  sub- 
ject, St.  John  had  seen  the  "  great  wine-press  of  God's 
wrath  trodden ;  and  the  blood  came  out  of  the  wine- 
press even  unto  the  horses'  bridles." 

Such  terrible  things  will  be ;  and  if  the  psalmist  had 
spoken  explicitly  of  terrible  things,  I  should  think  an 
allusion  was  indeed  intended  to  those  scenes  of  terror, 
yet  future,  which,  however,  in  the  appointed  season, 
must  overtake  the  wicked  world.    Rut  as  terrible  things 


(     64     ) 

ate  not  of  necessity  included  in  the  import  of  his  words, 
which  goes  not  necessarily  farther  than  "  wonderful," 
and  as  he  mentions  those  wonderful  things  before  the 
thread  of  his  prophecy  is  brought  down  to  the  second 
advent,  the  season  of  those  exploits  of  terror,  it  becomes 
us  to  be  cautious  how  we  force  a  sense  upon  the 
psalmist's  words  which  might  not  be  intended  by  him, 
or  rather  by  the  inspiring  Spirit.  It  will  be  safer  to  rest 
in  those  wonderful  things  which  actually  came  to  pass 
within  the  period  he  is  yet  upon,  and  were  undoubtedly 
brought  about  by  Messiah's  power,  as  the  true  accom- 
plishment of  this  part  of  the  prophecy.  The  suppres- 
sion of  idolatry  in  the  Roman  empire,  and  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Christian  church  upon  its  ruins,  was  an 
event  the  most  wonderful  in  the  history  of  tlie  Gentile 
world,  to  which  nothing  but  the  power  of  God  was 
adequate,  and  comes  up  to  the  whole  necessary  import 
of  the  psalmist's  expressions. 

The  war  of  this  period  of  the  prophecy  is  finished : 
the  battles  have  been  fought,  and  the  victory  is  gained. 
The  psalmist,  in  the  two  next  verses,  the  sixth  and 
seventh,  exhibits  the  king  seated  on  the  throne  of  his 
Mediatorial  kingdom,  and  governing  with  perfect  justice. 
He  addresses  him  as  God,  whose  throne  is  everlasting, 
and  sceptre  straights  as  a  monarch,  whose  heart  is  set 
upon  righteousness,  whose  antipathy  is  wickedness. 

6.  *'  Thy  throne,  O  God,  is  for  ever  and  ever; 

*'  A  straight  sceptre  is  the  sceptre  of  thy  royalty. 

7.  "  Thou  hast  loved  righteousness  and  hated  wick- 

edness ; 

"  Therefore  God  hath  anointed  thee,  thy  own  God, 

"  With  the  oil  of  gladness  above  thy  fellows." 

It  was  shown,  in  my  first  discourse  upon  this  psalm, 

how  inapplicable  this  address  is  to  Solomon ;  and  it  is 

obvious,  that  it  is  equally  inapplicable  to  any  earthly 

monarch :  for  of  no  throne  but  God's  can  it  be  affirmed 


(    65     ) 

mth  truth,  that  it  is  for  ever  and  ever;  of  no  king,  but 
of  God  and  of  his  Christ,  it  can  be  said,  that  he  loves 
righteousness  with  a  perfect  love,  and  hates  wickedness 
with  a  perfect  hate,— of  no  sceptre,  but  the  sceptre  of 
God  and  of  his  Christ,  that  it  is  a  straight  sceptre.  The 
sceptre  has  been,  from  the  earliest  ages,  a  badge  of 
royalty.  It  was  originally  nothing  more  than  a  straight 
slender  rod,  studded  sometimes  for  ornament  with  little 
nails  of  gold.  It  was  an  emblem  of  the  perfect  integrity 
of  the  monarch  in  the  exercise  of  his  power,  both  by 
himself  and  by  his  ministers,  inflexibly  adhering  to  the 
straight  line  of  right  and  justice,  as  a  mason  or  carpen- 
ter to  his  rule.  The  perfection  of  the  emblem  consisted 
in  the  straightness  of  the  stick  ;  for  every  thing  else  was 
ornament.  The  straightness,  therefore,  ascribed  by  the 
psalmist  to  Messiah's  sceptre,  is  to  be  understood  of 
the  invariable  justice  of  the  administration  of  his  go- 
vernment. Now,  certainly  there  have  been  many  kings, 
both  in  ancient  and  in  modem  times,  to  whom  the  praise 
is  due  of  a  cordial  regard  in  general  to  righteousness, 
and  of  a  settled  principle  of  dislike  to  wickedness, — 
many  who,  in  the  exercise  of  their  authority,  and 
the  measures  of  their  government,  have  been  generally 
directed  by  that  just  sense  of  right  and  wrong :  but  yet 
kings  are  not  exempt  from  the  frailties  of  hum.an  nature ; 
the  very  best  of  them  are,  at  least  in  an  equal  degree 
with  other  good  men,  liable  to  the  surprises  of  the  pas- 
sions, and  the  seductions  of  temptation ;  insomuch,  that 
that  predominant  love  of  righteousness  and  hatred  of 
iniquity,  maintaining  an  absolute  ascendancy  in  the 
mind,  in  all  times,  and  upon  all  occasions,  which  the 
psalmist  attributes  to  his  heavenly  King,  has  belonged  to 
none  that  ever  wore  an  earthly  crown ;  much  less  is  the 
perfect  straightness  of  the  sceptre,  a  perfect  confonnity 
to  the  rule  of  right,  to  be  found  in  the  practice  and  ex~ 
mention  of  the  governments  of  the  world.  It  will  hap- 
10 


(    66    } 

pen,  m  luimberlebs  instances,  and  from  an  infinite  com^ 
plication  of  causes,  all  reducible  to  the  general  head  of 
the  infirmity  of  human  nature,  and  the  depraved  state  of 
fallen  man, — from  an  endless  multiplicity  of  causes  it 
Avill  happen,  that  the  government  of  the  very  best  king 
will,  in  execution,  fall  far  short  of  the  purity  of  the 
king's  intentions,  and  this  in  governments  that  are  ever 
so  well  administered :  for,  if  we  suppose  every  one  of 
those  who  are  put  in  authority  under  him  to  be  as  up- 
right in  their  intentions  as  we  have  supposed  the  king 
himself  to  be,— which  must  appear  a  very  large  and  li- 
beral supposition,  if  we  consider  the  variety  of  depart- 
ments into  which  the  administration  of  any  great  govern- 
ment must  necessarily  be  divided,  and  the  great  mimber 
of  persons  that  must  be  employed  in  the  afiairs  of  each 
separate  department,- — but  if  we  make  the  supposition, 
that  all  the  officers,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  in 
all  the  departments,  are  as  good  as  men  can  be,  still  they 
will  be  men,  and,  as  men,  liable  every  one  of  them  to 
error  and  deception ;  and,  for  this  reason,  they  will  often 
fail  in  the  execution,  in  what  they  mean  to  do  the  best. 
This  gives  no  colour  to  the  detestable  principle,  propa- 
g-ated  from  democratic  France  over  the  Continent  of 
Europe,  of  what  is  profanely  called  "  the  sacred  right  of 
insurrection ;"  nor  to  similar  doctrines  broached  by  sec- 
tarian teachers  in  our  own  countrj'-.  It  is  merely  the 
^vant  of  perfection  in  human  nature,  of  which  govern- 
inent  and  governors,  with  all  things  and  with  all  persons 
human,  must  partake.  Still,  with  all  these  imperfec- 
tions, government  is  the  source  of  the  highest  blessings 
to  mankind ;  insomuch,  that  the  very  worst  government 
is  preferable  to  a  state  of  anarchy:  and  for  this  reason, 
the  peaceable  submission  of  tlie  subject  to  the  very  worst 
of  kings,  is  one  of  the  most  peremptory  precepts  of 
Christianity.  But  I  contend,  that  the  perfect  undeviat- 
ifT?;  rectitude  of  intention,  and  the  perfect  justice  of  ad- 


(    67    ) 

aiiinistration,  of  which  the  psahnist  speaks,  cannot  be 
ascribed,  without  impiety,  to  any  earthly  monarch. 

The  throne  of  God,  whether  we  understand  it  of 
God's  natural  dominion  over  the  whole  creation,  oi' 
more  particularly  of  his  providential  government  of  the 
moral  world,  or,  in  a  still  more  restricted  sense,  of 
Christ's  Mediatorial  kingdom,  is  everlasting;  and  the 
government,  both  in  the  will  of  the  governor  and  in  the 
execution,  is  invariably  good  and  just.  But  the  king- 
dom of  the  God-man  is  in  this  place  intended.  This  is 
evident  from  what  is  said  in  the  seventh  verse :  "  God, 
even  thine  own  God,  hath  anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of 
gladness  above  thy  fellows;"  i.  e.  God  hath  advanced 
thee  to  a  state  of  bliss  and  glory  above  all  those  whom 
thou  hast  vouchsafed  to  call  thy  fellows.  It  is  said  too, 
that  the  love  of  righteousness  and  hatred  of  wickedness 
is  the  cause  that  God  hath  so  anointed  him,  who  yet,  in 
the  sixth  verse,  is  himself  addressed  as  God.  It  is  ma- 
nifest, that  these  things  can  be  said  only  of  that  person 
in  whom  the  Godhead  and  the  manhood  are  united, — - 
in  whom  the  human  nature  is  the  subject  of  the  unction, 
and  the  elevation  to  the  Mediatorial  kingdom  is  the  re- 
ward of  the  man  Jesus :  for,  in  his  divine  nature,  Christ 
being  equal  with  the  Father,  is  incapable  of  any  exalta- 
tion. Thus,  the  unction  with  the  oil  of  gladness,  and 
tlie  elevation  above  his  fellows,  characterize  the  man= 
hood,  and  the  perpetual  stability  of  the  throne,  and  the 
unsullied  justice  of  the  government,  declare  the  God- 
head. It  is  therefore  with  the  greatest  propriety  that  this 
text  is  applied  to  Christ,  in  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrew^s, 
and  made  an  argument  of  Ms  divinity;  not  by  any 
forced  accommodation  of  words  which,  in  the  mind  of 
the  author,  related  to  another  subject,  but,  according  to 
the  true  intent  and  purpose  of  the  psalmist,  and  the  li. 
teral  sense  and  only  consistent  exposition  of  his  words. 


(    68    ) 

The  psalmist  is  now  come  down,  by  a  regular  and 
complete,  though  a  summary  review,  of  the  principal 
occurrences  of  what  may  be  called  the  history  of  the 
Mediator  and  his  kingdofn,  the  Redeemer's  life  on  eartli, 
his  exaltation  to  his  throne  in  heaven,  the  successful 
prop  ;gation  of  the  gospel  after  his  ascension,  the  sup- 
pression of  idolatry,  and  the  establishment  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  in  the  principal  empires  and  kingdoms  of 
the  world,—- the  psalmist,  through  this  detail,  is  come 
down  to  the  epoch  x)f  the  second  advent,  which  imme- 
diately introduces  the  great  event  which  has  given  occa- 
sion to  the  whole  song, — the  consummation  of  the 
church's  happiness,  and  Messiah's  glorj^  here  on  earth, 
in  the  public  marriage  of  the  great  King  with  the  wife 
of  his  love.  This  occupies  the  whole  sequel  of  the 
psalm,  and  will  be  the  subject  of  my  next  discourse. 


J 


SERMON    VII, 


Psalm  xlv.  1. 


/  speak  of  the  things  which  I  have  made  touching  the 
King,  or  tmto  the  King. 


We  have  followed  the  holy  psalmist,  step  by  step, 
through  his  accurate  though  summarj^  prospective  view 
of  I  he  principal  occurrences  in  the  history  of  the  Me- 
diator and  his  kingdom  upon  earth,  from  our  Lord's 
first  appearance  in  the  flesh  to  the  epoch  of  his  second 
advent.  I  have  explained  to  you  the  several  images  un- 
der which  the  psalmist  represents  the  events  of  this  in- 
terval. I  have  shown  how  easily  they  apply  to  Christ 
and  his  gospel, — how  inapplicable  they  are  to  any  other 
subject.  I  showed  you,  that  under  the  figures  of  come- 
liness of  person  and  urbanity  of  speech,  the  psalmist 
describes  the  unexampled  sanctity  of  the  life  of  Jesus, 
and  the  high  consolations  of  his  doctrine :  tiiat  under 
the  figure  of  a  warrior,  clad  in  dazzling  armour,  with 
his  sword  girt  upon  his  thigh,  and  shooting  his  arrows 
af;er  a  flying  enemy,  Christ  is  described  as  waging  his 
spiritual  war  against  sin  and  Satan  by  his  powerful  word, 
— represented  as  a  sword,  when  it  is  employed  to  tenify 
the  conscience  of  the  sinner,  and  rouse  him  by  denun- 
ciations of  wratli  and  punishment  to  a  sense  of  his  dan- 
ger ;  as  an  arrow,  in  its  milder  effects,  when  it  pricks  the 
heart  v\  ith  that  godly  remorse  which  brings  on  the  sor- 
row that  works  tnie  repentance,  and  terminates  in  hope 


(    1^0    ) 

and  love.  The  splendid  defensive  armour  is  an  cmbleuj 
of  whatever  is  externally  venerable  and  lovely  in  Chris- 
tianity, and  conduces  to  conciliate  the  good  will  of  men, 
and  mitigate  the  malice  of  the  persecutor.  The  subju- 
gation of  nations,  by  the  prosecution  of  this  war,  is  the 
triumph  of  the  church  over  idolatry,  which  first  took 
place  in  the  reign  of  Constantine  the  Great,  when  the 
Christian  religion  was  established  in  the  Roman  empire, 
and  idolatry  put  down  by  that  emperor's  authority.  A 
few  years  after,  the  idolatrous  temples  were  finally  closed 
by  his  successors. 

The  battles  being  fought,  and  the  victory  gained,  the 
conqueror  is  saluted  by  the  holy  psalmist  as  the  God- 
man,  seated  upon  the  everlasting  throne  of  his  Media- 
torial kingdom.  The  psalmist  then  proceeds  to  that  great 
event  which  is  to  take  place  upon  the  second  advent  of 
our  Lord,  the  prospect  of  which  has  been  the  occasion 
of  the  whole  song, — the  consummation  of  the  church's 
happiness,  and  Messiah's  glory  here  on  earth,  in  the  pub- 
lic marriage  of  the  great  King  with  the  wife  of  his  love. 
And  upon  this  subject,  the  inspired  poet  dwells  through- 
out the  whole  sequel  of  the  psalm,  which  makes,  indeed, 
the  greater  part  of  the  entire  composition. 

Before  I  enter  upon  the  explanation  of  particulars  in 
this  part  of  the  song,  it  may  be  proper  to  offer  a  few 
Vv'ords  upon  the  general  propriety  and  significance  of  the 
image  of  a  marriage,  as  it  is  applied  here,  and  in  other 
parts  of  Scripture,  to  Messiah  and  his  church. 

Our  Lord  said  of  himself,  that  he  came  to  "  preach 
the  gospel  to  the  ix)or ;"  and  the  same  thing  may  be  said 
of  the  word  of  revelation  in  general, — that  it  was  given 
for  the  instruction  of  all  mankind,  the  lowest  as  well  as 
the  highest,  the  most  illiterate  as  well  as  the  wise  and 
learned  ;  and  if  with  any  difference,  with  a  special  regard 
to  the  benefit  of  those,  who,  from  their  condition,  were 
-the  most  deficient  in  the  means  of  natural  improvement. 


I 


(    7i     ) 

It  may  be  reckoned,  therefore,  a  necessary  characteristic 
of  divine  revelation,  that  it  shall  be  delivered  in  a  man* 
ner  the  most  adapted  to  what  are  vulgarly  called  the 
meanest  capacities.  And  by  this  perspicuity,  both  of 
precept  and  of  doctrine,  the  whole  Bible  is  remarkably 
distinguished :  for  although  St.  Peter  speaks  of  things  in 
it  hard  to  be  understood,  he  speaks  of  such  things  only 
as  could  never  have  been  understood  at  all,  had  they  nol; 
been  revealed,  and,  being  revealed,  are  yet  not  capable 
of  proof  or  explanation  upon  scientific  principles,  but  rest 
solely  on  the  authority  of  the  revelation;  not  that  the 
terms  in  which  these  discoveries  are  made  are  obscure 
and  ambiguous  in  their  meaning,  or  that  the  things  them- 
selves, however  hard  for  the  pride  of  philosophy,  are 
not  of  easy  digestion  to  an  humble  faith.  Obscurities 
undoubtedly  have  arisen,  from  the  great  antiquity  of  the 
sacred  writings,  from  the  changes  which  time  makes  m 
language,  and  from  some  points  of  ancient  history,  be- 
come dark  or  doubtful :  but  these  affect  only  particulai" 
passages,  and  bring  no.  difficulty  at  all  upon  the  general 
doctrine  of  revelation,  which  is  the  only  thing  of  uni- 
versal and  perpetual-  importance.  Nov/  the  method  of 
teaching  which  the  Holy  Spirit  hath  employed  to  adapt 
the  profoundest  mysteries  of  religion  to  the  most  ordi- 
nary capacities,  has  been,  in  all  ages,  to  propound  them 
by  his  inspired  messengers,  the  prophets  under  the  law, 
and  the  apostles  in  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  in  figu- 
rative expressions,  in  images  and  allusions,  taken  either 
from  the  most  striking  objects  of  the  senses  in  the  works 
of  nature,  or  from  human  life.  The  relation  between 
Christ  and  liis  church,  it  is  evident,  must  be  of  a  nature 
not  to  be  adequately  tipyfied  by  any  thing  in  the  material 
world ;  and  nottiing  could  be  found  in  human  life  which 
might  so  aptly  represent  it  as  the  relation  of  husband 
and  wife  in  the  holy  state  of  wedlock :  and  in  this,  the 
analogy  is  so  perfect,  that  the  notion  of  the  ancient  Jews 


C    72    ) 

lias  received  the  express  sanction  of  St.  Paul,  that  the 
relation  of  the  Saviour  and  the  church  was  tipyfied  in 
the  union  of  our  first  parents,  and  in  the  particular  man- 
ner of  Eve's  formation  out  of  the  substance  of  Adam. 
The  most  striking  particulars  of  the  resemblance  are 
these :  The  union,  in  both  cases,  in  the  natural  case  of 
man  and  wife,  and  the  spiritual  case  of  Messiah  and 
the  church,  is  a  union  of  the  most  entire  affection,  and 
the  warmest  mutual  love,  between  unequals;  contrary 
to  the  admired  maxim  of  the  heathen  moralist,  that 
friendship  was  not  to  be  found  but  between  equals. 
The  maxim  may  be  true  in  all  human  friendship,  except 
the  conjugal,  but  fails  completely  in  the  love  between 
Christ  and  the  church,  in  which  the  affection  on  both 
sides  is  the  most  cordial,  though  the  rank  of  the  parties 
be  the  most  disparate.  Secondly,  The  union  is  indis- 
soluble, except  by  a  violation  of  the  nuptial  vow.  But 
the  great  resemblance  of  all  lies  in  this, — the  never- fail- 
ing protection  and  support  afforded  by  the  husband  to 
the  wife,  and  the  abstraction  of  the  affections  from  all 
other  objects  on  the  part  of  the  wife,  and  the  surrender 
of  her  whole  heart  and  mind  to  the  husband.  In  these 
circumstances  principally,  but  in  many  others  also, 
which  the  time  will  not  permit  me  to  recount,  the  pro- 
priety and  significance  of  the  type  consists.  It  is  applied 
with  some  variety,  and  with  more  or  less  accuracy,  in 
different  parts  of  holy  writ,  according  to  the  purpose  of 
the  writer.  Where  the  church  catholic  is  considered 
simply  in  its  totality,  without  distinction  of  the  parts  of 
which  it  is  composed,  the  whole  church  is  taken  as  the 
wife :  but  when  it  is  considered  as  consisting  of  two 
great  brandies,  the  church  of  the  natural  Israel,  and  the 
church  of  the  Gentiles,  of  which  two  branches  tlie  whole 
was  composed  in  the  primitive  ages,  and  will  be  com- 
posed again,  then  the  former  is  considered  as  the  wife, 
or  qiie'fV:  ronsort.  and  the  Gentile  congregations  as  her 


daughters,  or  ladies  of  honour  of  her  court.  And  in  this 
manner,  the  type  is  used  in  many  parts  of  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  and  very  remarkably  in  this  psalm. 

In  the  part  of  it  which  we  are  now  about  to  expound, 
the  holy  psalmist  having  seated  the  King  Messiah  on  his 
everlasting  throne,  proceeds  to  the  magnificence  of  his 
court,  as  it  appeared  on  the  wedding-day;  in  which, 
the  thing  which  first  strikes  him,  and  fixes  his  attention, 
is  the  majesty  and  splendour  of  the  king's  own  dress, 
which,  indeed,  is  described  by  the  single  circumstance 
of  the  profusion  of  rich  perfumes  with  which  it  was 
scented.  But  tliis,  by  inference,  implies  every  thing 
else  of  elegance  and  costly  ornament :  for  among  the  na- 
tions of  the  East,  in  ancient  times,  perfume  was  consi- 
dered as  the  finishing  of  the  dress  of  persons  of  condi- 
tion when  they  appeared  in  public ;  and  modern  manners 
give  us  no  conception  of  the  costliness  of  the  materials 
employed  in  the  composition  of  their  odours,  their  care 
and  nicety  in  the  preparation  of  them,  and  the  quantity 
in  which  they  were  used.  The  high-priest  of  the  Jews 
was  not  sprinkled  with  a  few  scanty  drops  of  the  per- 
fume of  the  sanctuary ;  but  his  person  was  so  bedewed 
widi  it,  that  it  literally  ran  down  from  his  i^eard  to  the 
skirts  of  his  garment.  The  high-priest  of  the  Jews,  in 
his  robes  of  office,  was  in  this,  as  I  shall  presently  ex- 
plain, and  in  every  circumstance,  the  living  type  of  our 
Great  High- Priest.  The  psalmist  describes  the  fragrance 
of  Messiah's  garments  to  be  such,  as  if  the  aromatic 
woods  had  been  the  very  substance  out  of  which  the 
robes  were  made. 

"  Thy  garments  are  all  myrrh,  aloes,  and  cassia." 
The  sequel  of  this  verse  is  somewhat  obscure  in  thQ 
original,  by  reason  of  the  ambiguity  of  one  little  word, 
which  dift'erent  interpreters  have  taken  differently.    I 
^hall  give  yon  what  in  my  judgment  is  the  liter^  render^ 


'  f    74    ) 

hig  ot  tlic  pabbugc,  and  trust  I  shall  not  find  it  difficuic 
to  make  the  meaning  of  it  very  clear. 

"  Thj-  garments  are  all  myrrh,  aloes,  and  cassia, 

"  Excelling  the  palaces  of  ivory, 

*'  Excelling  those  which  delight  thee.'' 
Ivory  was  highly  valued  and  admired  among  the  Jews, 
and  other  eastern  nations  of  antiquity,  for  the  purity  of 
its  white,  the  delicate  smoothness  of  the  surface,  and  the 
durability  of  the  substance ;  being  not  liable  to  tarnish 
or  rust  like  metals,  or,  like  wood,  to  rot  or  to  be  worm- 
eaten.  Hence  it  was  a  flivourite  ornament  in  the  furni- 
ture of  the  houses  and  palaces  of  great  men;  and  all 
such  ornamental  furniture  was  plentifully  perfumed. 
The  psalmist  therefore  says,  that  the  fragrance  of  the 
King's  garments  far  exceeded  any  thing  that  met  the 
nostrils  of  the  visitors  in  the  stateliest  and  best  furnished 
palaces.  But  this  is  not  all :  he  says  besides,  that  these 
perfumes  of  the  royal  garments  "  excel  those  which  de- 
light thee."  To  understand  this,  you  must  recollect, 
that  there  were  two  very  exquisite  perfumes  used  in  the 
symbolical  service  of  the  temple,  both  made  of  the 
richest  spices,  mixed  in  certain  proportions,  and  by  a 
])rocess  directed  by  the  law.  The  one  was  used  to 
anoint  every  article  of  the  furniture  of  the  siinctuary, 
and  the  robes  and  persons  of  the  priests.  The  composi- 
tion of  it  was  not  to  be  imitated,  nor  was  it  to  be  applied 
to  the  person  of  any  but  a  consecrated  priest,  upon  pain 
of  death.  Some,  indeed,  of  the  kings  of  David's  line 
were  anointed  with  it ;  but  when  this  was  done,  it  was 
by  the  special  direction  of  a  prophet,  and  it  was  to  inti- 
mate, as  1  apprehend,  the  relation  of  that  royal  house  to 
the  eternal  priesthood,  to  be  instituted  in  due  season  in 
that  flimily.  The  other  was  a  compound  of  other  ingre- 
dients, whicli  made  the  incense  that  was  burnt  upon  the 
golden  altar  as  a  grateful  odour  to  the  Lord.     This  too 


(    75    } 

vv'as  most  holy,  and  to  attempt  to  make  the  hke  for  pri- 
vate  use  was  a  capital  offence. 

Now  the  perfumed  garments  of  the  psalmist's  king 
denote  the  very  same  thing  which  was  typified  under  the 
law  by  the  perfumed  garments  of  the  high-priest ;  the 
psalmist's  king  being  indeed  the  real  person  of  whom  the 
high-priest,  in  every  particular,  of  his  office,  his  ser- 
vices, and  his  dress,  was  the  type.  The  perfumed  gar- 
ments were  typical, — first,  of  the  graces  and  virtues  of 
the  Redeemer  himself  in  his  human  character ;  secondly, 
of  whatever  is  refreshing,  encouraging,  consoling,  and 
cheering  in  the  external  ministiation  of  the  word ;  and, 
thirdly,  of  the  internal  comforts  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  But 
the  incense  fumed  upon  the  golden  altar  wns  typical  of  a 
far  inferior,  though  of  a  precious  and  holy  thing, — 
namely,  of  whatever  is  pleasing  to  God  in  the  faith,  the 
devotions,  and  the  good  works  of  the  saints.  Now  the 
psalmist  says,  that  the  fragrance  breathing  from  the  gar- 
ments of  the  King  far  excels,  not  only  the  sweetest 
odours  of  any  earthly  monarch's  palace,  but  that  it  sur- 
passes those  spiritual  odours  of  sanctity  in  which  the 
King  himself  delights.  The  consolations  which  the 
faithful,  under  all  their  sufferings,  receive  from  him,  in 
the  example  of  his  holy  life,  the  ministration  of  the 
word  and  sacraments,  and  the  succours  of  the  Spirit,  are 
fai*  beyond  the  proportion  of  any  thing  they  have  to  offer 
in  return  to  him,  in  their  praises,  their  prayers,  and  their 
good  lives,  notwithstanding  in  these  their  services  he 
condescends  to  take  delight.  This  is  the  doctrine  of 
this  highly  mystic  text,  that  the  value  of  all  our  best 
works  of  faith  and  obedience,  even  in  our  own  eyes, 
must  sink  into  nothing,  v/hen  they  are  contrasted  with 
the  exuberant  mercy  of  God  extended  to  us  through 
Christ. 

Such  is  the  fragrance  breathing  from  the  great  King's 
wedding  garments.    We  proceed  to  other  particulars  in 


(    76    ) 

the  magnificent  appearance  of  his  court  on  the  wedding- 
day,  figurative  of  the  glory  of  the  churcli  in  its  final  con- 
dition of  purity  and  peace,  and  of  the  rank  and  order  of 
particular  churches. 

"  Kings'  daughters  are  among  thy  honourable  women." 
You  will  observe  that  the  word  "  women,"  in  the  Bibles 
of  the  larger  size,  is  printed  in  that  character  which  is 
used  to  distinguish  the  words  which  have  been  inserted 
by  the  translators,  to  make  the  sense  perspicuous  to  the 
English  reader,  without  any  thing  expressly  correspond- 
ing in  the  original.  Omitting  the  word  "  women,"  our 
translators  might  have  given  the  verse,  according  to  their 
conceptions  of  the  preceding  word  which  describes  the 
women,  thus: 

*'  Kings'  daughters  are  among  thy  honourables ;" 
i.  e.  among  the  persons  appointed  to  services  of  honour. 
But  the  original  word  thus  expressed  by  "  honourable 
women,"  or  by  "  honourables,"  is  indeed  applied  to 
whatever  is  rare  and  valued  in  its  kind,  and,  for  that 
reason,  to  illustrious  persons,  ennobled  and  distinguished 
by  marks  of  royal  favour :  and  in  this  sense,  it  certainly 
is  figuratively  applicable  to  the  persons  whom  I  shall 
show  to  be  intended  here.  But  the  primary  meaning  of 
tlie  word  is  "  bright,  sparkling;"  and  it  is  particularly 
applied  to  brilliant  gems,  or  precious  stones.  Sparkling 
is  in  all  languages  figuratively  applied  to  female  beauty ; 
and  the  imagery  of  the  original  would  be  better  pre- 
served, though  the  sense  would  be  much  the  same,  if 
the  passage  were  thus  rendered : 

"  Kings'  daughters  are  among  the  bright  beauties  of 
thy  court." 
The  beauty  certainly  is  mystic, — the  beauty  of  evangeli- 
cal sanctity  and  innocence. 

But  who,  and  what  are  these  kings'  daughters,  the 
lustre  of  whose  beauty  adorns  the  great  monarch's  court? 
"  Kings'  daughters,"  in  the  general  language  of  holy 


{    77    ) 

writ,  arc  the  kingdoms  and  peoples  which  they  govern^ 
of  which,  in  common  speech,  they  are  called  fathers. 
The  expression  may  be  so  taken  here;  and  then  the 
sense  will  be,  that  the  greatest  kingdoms  and  empires  of 
the  world,  converted  to  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  shining 
in  the  beauty  of  the  good  works  of  true  holiness,  will  be 
united,  at  the  season  of  the  wedding,  to  Messiah's  king- 
dom. But,  inasmuch  as  Messiah's  kingdom  is  not  one 
of  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  that  secular  kingdoms 
will  never  be  immediatelj%  and  in  their  secular  capacity^ 
vassals  of  his  kingdom,  I  rather  think,  that  the  kings'^ 
daughters  mentioned  here  are  the  various  national 
churches,  fostered  for  many  ages  by  the  piety  of  Chris- 
tian princes,  and  now  brought  to  the  perfection  of  beauty, 
by  the  judgments  which  shall  have  purged  every  one  of 
them  of  all  things  that  offend:  for  they  may  well  be 
called  "  kings'  daughters,"  of  whom  kings  and  queens 
are  called,  in  the  prophetic  language,  the  fathers  and 
the  mothers.  From  these,  the  psalmist  turns  our  at- 
tention to  another  lady,  distinguished  above  them  all, 
by  her  title,  her  place,  and  the  superlative  richness  of 
her  robes. 

"  Kings'  daughters  are  among  the  bright  beauties  of 
thy  court ; 

"  At  thy  right  hand  the  consort  has  her  station, 

"  In  standard  gold  of  Ophir." 
Some  expositors  have  imagined,  that  the  consort  is  an 
emblem  of  the  church  catholic  in  her  totality, — the 
kings'  daughters,  typical  of  the  several  particular 
churches  of  which  that  one  universal  is  composed.  But 
♦  he  queen  consort  here,  is  unquestionably  the  Hebrew- 
church, — the  church  of  the  natural  Israel,  re-united,  by 
her  conversion,  to  her  husband,  and  advanced  to  the  high 
prerogative  of  the  mother  church  of  Christendom :  and 
the  kings'  daughters  are  the  churches  which  had  been 
gathered  out  of  the  Gentiles,  in  the  interval  between  the 


(    78    ) 

expulsion  of  this  wife,  and  the  taking  of  her  home  again, 
— that  is,  between  the  dispersion  of  the  Jews  by  the 
Romans,  and  their  restoration.  The  restoration  of  the 
Hebrew  church  to  the  rights  of  a  wife, — to  the  situation 
of  the  queen  consort  in  Messiah's  kingdom  upop  earth, 
— is  the  constant  strain  of  prophecy.  To  prove  this, 
by  citing  all  the  passages  to  that  purpose,  would  be  to 
transcribe  whole  chapters  of  some  of  the  prophets,  and 
innumerable  detached  passages  from  almost  all.  In  ad- 
dition to  those  which  I  have  already  cited,  in  my  former 
discourses  upon  this  subject,  I  shall  produce  only  the 
latter  part  of  the  second  chapter  of  Hosea.  In  that 
chapter,  Jehovah,  after  discarding  the  incontinent  wife, 
and  threatening  terrible  severity  of  punishment,  adds, 
that  nevertheless  the  time  should  come,  when  she  should 
again  address  her  offended  lord  by  the  endearing  name 
of  husband.  "  And  I  will  betroth  thee  to  myself  for 
ever.  Yes;  I  will  betroth  thee  to  myself,  with  justice, 
and  v/ith  righteousness,  and  with  exuberant  kindness, 
and  Vv^ith  tender  love.  Yes;  with  faitlifulness,  to  my- 
self I  will  betroth  thee."  These  promises  are  made  to 
the  woman  that  had  been  discarded,  and  cannot  be  un- 
derstood of  mercies  to  be  extended  to  any  other.  The 
prophet  Isaiah  speaks  to  the  same  effect,  and  describes 
the  Gentile  converts  as  becoming,  upon  the  reunion, 
children  of  the  pardoned  wife.  And  I  must  not  omit 
to  mention,  that  St.  Paul,  in  his  epistle  to  the  Romans, 
to  clear  up  the  mystery  of  God's  dealing  with  the  Jews, 
tells  us,  that  "  blindness  is,  in  part  only,  happened  unto 
Israel,  till  the  time  shall  arrive  for  the  fulness  of  the 
Gentiles  to  come  in  ;  and  then  all  Israel  shall  be  saved ; 
ibr  the  gifts  and  calling  of  God  are  without  repentance." 
To  expound  these  predictions  of  the  ancient  prophets, 
and  this  declaration  of  the  apostle,  of  any  thing  but  the 
restoration  of  the  natural  Israel,  is  to  introduce  ambi- 
guity and  equivocation  into  the  plainest  oracles  of  Godc 


1 


f     79    ) 

The  standard  gold  upon  die  queen's  robe,  denotes  the 
treasures  of  which  die  church  is  the  depositary,— the 
written  word,  and  the  dispensation  of  grace  and  for- 
giveness of  sins,  by  the  due  administration  of  the  sacra- 
ments. 

The  psalmist,  beholding  the  queen  in  her  costly  robes, 
on  the  king's  right  hand,  interrupts  the  progress  of  his 
description  with  a  Avord  of  momentous  advice  addressed 
to  her. 

"  Hearken,  O  daughter !  and  consider ; 

"  Incline  thine  ear,  and  forget 

"  Thine  ou  n  people,  and  thy  Other's  house ; 

"  So  shall  the  king  set  his  heart  upon  thy  beauty. 

"  Truly  he  is  thy  Lord ;  therefore  worship  thou  him.''' 
If  a  princess  from  a  distant  land,  taken  in  marriage  by 
a  great  king,  were  admonished  to  forget  her  own  people 
and  her  father's  house,  the  purport  of  the  advice  would 
easily  be  understood  to  be,  that  she  should  divest  herself 
of  all  attachment  to  the  customs  of  her  native  country, 
and  to  the  style  of  her  father's  court,  and  learn  to  speak 
the  language,  and  assume  the  dress,  the  manners,  and 
the  taste  of  her  husband's  people.  The  "father's  house" 
and  "  own  people,"  which  the  psalmist  advises  the  queen 
consort  to  forget,  is  the  ancient  Jev/ish  religion  in  its 
external  form, — the  ceremonies  of  the  temple  service, — 
the  sacrifices,  and  the  typical  purgations  of  the  Levitical 
priesthood.  Not  that  she  is  to  forget  God's  gracious  pro- 
mises to  Abraham,  nor  the  covenant  v/ith  her  forefathers 
(the  benefit  of  which  she  will  enjoy  to  the  very  end  of 
time),  nor  the  many  wonderful  deliverances  that  wer^e 
wrought  for  them :  rior  is  she  to  forget  the  history  of  her 
nation,  preserved  in  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment ;  nor  the  predictions  of  Moses  and  her  prophets, 
the  full  accomplishment  of  which  she  will  at  this  time 
experience  :  and  historically,  she  is  never  to  forget  even 
the  ceremonial  law;  for  the  Levitical  rites  were  nothing 


('    80    ) 

less  than  the  gospel  itself  in  hieroglyphics ;  and,  rightly 
understood,  they  afFord  the  most  complete  demonstra- 
tion of  the  coherence  of  revelation  with  itself,  in  all  its 
different  stages,  and  the  best  evidence  of  its  truth; 
showing  that  it  has  been  the  same  in  substance  in  all 
ages,  differing  only  in  external  form,  in  the  rites  of  wor- 
ship, and  in  the  manner  of  teaching.  But,  practically, 
the  rites  of  their  ancient  worship  are  to  be  forgotten, — 
tliat  is,  laid  aside ;  for  they  never  were  of  any  other  im- 
portance than  in  reference  to  the  gospel,  as  the  shadow 
is  of  no  value  but  as  it  resembles  the  substance.  Prac- 
tically therefore  the  restored  Hebrew  church  is  to  aban- 
don her  ancient  Jewish  rites,  and  become  mere  and  pure 
Christian ;  and  thus  she  will  secure  the  conjugal  affec- 
tions of  her  husband,  and  render  the  beauty  of  her  per- 
son perfect  in  his  eyes.  And  this  she  is  bound  to  do ; 
for  her  royal  husband  is  indeed  her  Lord :  Moses  was 
no  more  than  his  servant, — the  prophets  after  Moses, 
servants  in  a  lower  rank  than  he.  But  the  authority  of 
Christ  the  husband  is  paramount  over  all ;  he  is  entitled 
to  her  unreserved  obedience ;  he  is  indeed  her  God,  en- 
titled to  her  adoration. 

This  submission  of  the  consort  to  her  wedded  lord, 
will  set  her  high  in  the  esteem  of  the  churches  of  the 
Gentiles. 

"  See  the  daughter  of  Tyre,  with  a  gift; 

"  The  wealthiest  of  the  people  shall  entreat  thy  fa- 
vour." 
The  "  daughter  of  Tyre,"  according  to  the  principles 
of  interpretation  we  have  laid  down,  must  be  a  church 
established,  either  literally  at  Tyre,  or  in  some  country 
held  forth  under  the  image  of  Tyre.  Ancient  Tyre  was 
famous  for  her  commerce,  her  wealth,  her  excellence  in 
•he  fine  arts, her  luxury,  the  profligate  debauched  manners 
of  her  people,  and  the  grossness  of  her  idolatry.  The 
"  d;u)giitcr  of  Tyre"  appearing  before  the  queen  consort 


(    81     ) 

with  a  gift,"  is  a  figurative  prediction,  th:\t  churches 
will  be  established,  under  the  protection  of  the  govern- 
ment, in  countries  which  had  been  distinguished  for 
profligacy,  dissipated  manners,  and  irreligion.  It  is  in- 
timated in  the  next  line,  that  some  of  these  churches 
will  be  rich ;  that  is,  rich  in  spiritual  riches,  which  are 
the  only  riches  of  a  church,  in  the  mystic  language  of 
prophecy,— -rich  in  the  holy  lives  of  their  members,  in 
the  truth  of  their  creeds,  and  the  purity  of  their  external 
forms  of  worship,  and  in  God's  favour.  But  notwith- 
standing this  wealth  of  their  own,  these  churches  will 
pay  willing  homage  to  the  royal  consort,  their  eldest 
sister,  the  metropolitical  church  of  JerusLilem. 

From  this  address  to  the  queen,  the  psalmist,  in  the 
thirteenth  verse,  returns  to  the  description  of  the  great 
scene  lying  in  vision  before  him. 

"  The  King's  daughter  is  all  glorious  within." 
In  this  line,  the  same  personage  that  has  hitherto  been 
represented  as  the  King's  wife  seems  to  be  called  his 
daughter.  This,  however,  is  a  matter  upon  which  com- 
mentators have  been  much  divided.  Some  have  ima- 
gined that  a  new  personage  is  introduced ;  that  the  King's 
wife  is,  as  I  have  all  along  maintained,  the  figure  of  the 
Hebrew  church ;  but  that  this  "  daughter  of  the  King" 
is  the  Christian  church  in  general,  composed  of  Jews 
and  Gentiles  indiscriminately,  considered  as  the  daughter 
of  the  King  Messiah  by  his  Hebrew  queen.  This  was 
Martin  Luther's  notion.  Others  have  thought  that  the 
wife  is  the  Hebrew  church  by  itself,  and  the  daughter 
the  church  of  the  Gentiles  by  itself.  But  neither  of  these 
explanations  are  perfectly  consistent  with  the  imagery 
of  this  psalm.  Far  to  be  preferred  is  the  exposition  of 
the  late  learned  and  pious  Bishop  Home,  who  rejects 
the  notion  of  the  introduction  of  a  new  personage,  and 
observes,  "  that  the  connection  between  Christ  and  his 
12 


(    82    ) 

spouse  unites  in  itself  every^  relation  and  every  affection.'' 
She  is,  therefore,  daughter,  wife,  and  sister,  all  in  one. 
The  same  seems  to  have  been  the  notion  of  a  learned 
Dominican  of  the  seventeenth  century,  who  remarks^ 
that  the  Empress  Julia,  in  the  legends  of  some  ancient 
coins,  is  called  the  daughter  of  Augustus,  whose  wife 
she  was. 

But,  with  much  general  reverence  for  the  opinions  of 
these  learned  commentators,  I  am  persuaded  that  the 
stops  ha^^e  been  misplaced  in  the  Hebrew  manuscripts, 
by  the  Jewish  critics,  upon  the  last  revision  of  the  text, 
— that  translators  have  been  misled  by  their  false  division 
of  the  text,  and  expositors  misled  by  translators.  The 
stops  being  rightly  placed,  the  Hebrew  words  give  this 
sense : 

"  She  is  all  glorious"— 
She,  the  consort  of  whom  we  have  been  speaking,  is 
glorious  in  every  respect — 

"  Daughter  of  a  king!" 
That  is,  she  is  a  princess  born  (by  which  title  she  is  sa- 
luted in  the  Canticles):  she  is  glorious,  therefore,  for 
htr  high  birth.  She  is,  indeed,  of  high  and  heavenly 
extraction !  She  may  say  of  herself,  collectively,  what 
the  apostle  has  taught  her  sons  to  say  individually,  "  Of 
his  own  will  begat  he  us  with  the  word  of  his  truth." 
Accordingly,  in  the  iVpocalypse,  the  bride,  the  Lamb^s 
wife,  is  "  the  holy  Jerusalem  descending  out  of  heaven 
from  God." 

The  psalmist  goes  on, 

"  Her  inner  garment  is  bespangled  with  gold; 
"  Her  upper  garment  is  embroidered  with  the  nee- 
dle." 
These  two  lines  require  little  comment.    The  spangles 
of  gold  upon  the  consort's  inner  garment,  are  the  same 
tiling  with  the  standard  gold  of  Ophir,  of  the  ninth 


(     83     ) 

verse, — the  invaluable  treasure  with  which  the  church  i^ 
endowed,  with  the  custody  and  distribution  of  which 
she  is  entrusted.    The  embroidery  of  her  upper  garment 
is,  whatever  there  is  of  beauty  in  her  external  form,  her 
discipline,  and  her  rites. 
The  psalmist  adds : 
"  She  is  conducted  in  procession  to  the  King." 
Our  public  translation  has  simply,  "  She  is  brought;'-' 
but  the  original  word  implies  the  pomp  and  conduct  of 
a  public  procession.     The  greatest  caution  is  requisite 
in  attempting  to  interpret,  in  the  detail  of  circumstances, 
the  prediction  of  things  yet  remote.     We  may  venture, 
however,  to  apply  this  conducting  of  the  queen  to  the 
palace  of  her  lord,  to  some  remarkable  assistance  which 
the  Israelites  will  receive  from  the  Christian  nations  of 
the  Gentile   race,    in  their   resettlement  in  the   Holy 
Land;  which  seems  to  be  mentioned  under  the  very 
same  image  by  the  prophet  Isaiah,   at  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  chapter,  and  by  the  prophet  Zephaniah,  chap, 
iii.  10.  and  is  clearly  the  subject  of  more  explicit  pro- 
phecies.    "  Thus  saith  Jehovah,"  speaking  to  Zion,  in 
the  prophet  Isaiah,  "  Behold,  I  will  lift  up  my  hand  to 
the  Gentiles,  and  set  up  my  standard  to  the  peoples; 
and  they  shall  bring  thy  sons   in  their  arms,  and  thy 
daughters  shall  be  carried  upon  their  shoulders."    And 
in  another  place,  "  They  (the  Gentiles,  mentioned  in  the 
preceding  verse)  shall  bring  all  your  brethren,  for  an 
offering  unto  Jehovah,  out  of  all  nations,  upon  horses, 
and  in  chariots,  and  in  litters,  and  upon  mules,  and  upon 
swift  beasts,  to  my  holy  mountain  Jerusalem." 

But  the  psalmist  is  struck  with  the  appearance  of  a 
very  remarkable  band  which  makes  a  part  in  this  pro- 
f'cssion. 
"  She  is  conducted  in  procession  to  the  king; 
•'  Virgins  follow  her,  her  companions, 


(     84    ) 

"  Coming  unto  thee ; 

"  They  are  conducted  in  procession,  with  festivity  and 
rejoicing ; 

*'  They  enter  the  palace  of  the  King." 
These  virgins  seem  to  be  different  persons  from  the 
kings'  daughters  of  the  ninth  verse.  Those  "  kings* 
daughters"  were  akeady  distinguished  ladies  of  the 
monarch's  own  court;  these  virgins  are  introduced  to 
it  by  the  queen ;  they  follow  her  as  part  of  her  retinue, 
and  are  introduced  as  her  companions.  The  former 
represent,  as  we  conceive,  the  churches  of  Gentile  ori- 
gin, formed  and  established  in  the  period  of  the  wife's 
disgrace:  these  virgins  we  take  to  be  new  churches, 
formed  among  nations,  not  sooner  called  to  the  know- 
ledge of  the  gospel  and  the  faith  in  Christ,  at  the  very, 
season  of  the  restoration  of  Israel,  in  whose  conversion 
the  restored  Hebrew  church  may  have  a  principal  share. 
This  is  that  fulness  of  the  Gentiles  of  which  St.  Paul 
speaks  as  coincident  in  time  with  the  recovery  of  the 
Jews,  and,  in  a  great  degree,  the  effect  of  their  conver- 
sion. "  Have  they  stumbled  that  they  should  fall?" 
saith  the  apostle,  speaking  of  the  natural  Israel;  "  God 
forbid:  but  rather,  through  their  fall,  salvation  is  come 
unto  the  Gentiles,  for  to  provoke  them  to  emulation. 
Now,  if  the  fall  of  them  be  the  riches  of  the  world, 
and  their  loss  the  riches  of  the  Gentiles,  how  much 
more  their  fulness  ?  For  if  the  casting  away  of  them 
be  the  reconciling  of  the  world,  what  shall  the  receiving 
of  them  be,  but  life  from  die  dead?"  In  these  texts, 
the  apostle  clearly  lays  out  this  order  of  the  business, 
in  the  conversion  of  the  whole  world  to  Christ :  First, 
the  rejection  of  the  un')clieving  Jews:  then,  the  first 
call  of  the  Gentiles :  the  recovery  of  the  Jews,  after  a 
long  season  of  obstinacy  and  blindness,  at  last  provoked 
to  emulation,  brought  to  a  right  understanding  of  God's 


(     85     j 

dispensations,  by  that  very  call  which  hitherto  has  been 
one  of  their  stumbUng-blocks ;  and,  lastly,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  conversion  of  the  Jews,  a  prodigious  in- 
flux from  the  Gentile  nations  yet  unconverted,  and  im- 
mersed  in  the  darkness  and  corruptions  of  idolatry; 
which  make  little  less  than  two-thirds,  not  of  the  civil- 
ized, but  of  the  inhabited  world.  The  churches  of  this 
new  conversion  seem  to  be  the  virgins,  the  queen's 
bridemaids,  in  the  nuptial  procession. 

In  the  next  verse  (the  sixteenth),  the  psalmist  again 
addresses  the  queen. 

"  Thy  children  shall  be  in  the  place  of  thy  fathers; 

"  Thou  shalt  make  them  princes  in  all  the  earth." 
Thy  children  shall  be  what  thy  fathers  were,  God's  pe- 
culiar people ;  and  shall  hold  a  distinguished  rank  and 
character  in  the  earth. 

The  psalmist  closes  his  divine  song  with  a  distich, 
setting  forth  the  design,  and  predicting  the  effect  of  his 
own  performance. 

"  I  will  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  thy  name  to 
all  generations ; 

"  Insomuch,  that  the  peoples  shall  praise  thee  for 
ever." 
By  inditing  this  marriage  song,  he  hoped  to  be  the 
means  of  celebrating  the  Redeemer's  name  from  age  to 
age,  and  of  inciting  the  nations  of  the  world  to  join  in 
his  praise.  The  event  has  not  disappointed  the  holy 
prophet's  expectation.  His  composition  has  been  the 
delight  of  the  congregations  of  the  faithful  for  little  less 
than  three  thousand  years.  For  one  thousand  and  forty, 
it  was  a  means  of  keeping  alive  in  the  synagogue  the  hope 
of  the  Redeemer  to  come :  for  eighteen  hundred  since, 
it  has  been  the  means  of  perpetuating  in  Christian  con- 
gregations the  grateful  remembrance  of  what  has  been 
done,  anxious  attention  to  what  is  doing,  and  of  the 


*f# 


(86    ) 

eheering  hope  of  the  second  coming  of  our  Lord,  who 
surely  cometh  to  turn  away  ungodliness  from  Jacob, 
and  to  set  up  a  standard  to  the  nations  which  yet  sit  in 
darkness  and  the  shadow  of  death.  "  He  that  wit- 
nesseth  these  things  saith,  Behold,  I  come  quickly. 
And  the  Spirit  saith,  Come;  and  the  bride  saith,  Come; 
and  let  every  one  that  heareth  say,  Amen.  Even  so. 
Come,  Lord  Jesus!" 


SERMON    VIII 


1  John  v.  6. 


This  is  he  that  came  by  -water  and  bloody   even  Jesus- 
Christ; — not  by  imter  only,  but  by  water  and  blood. 

r  OR  the  surer  interpretation  of  these  words,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  take  a  general  view  of  the  sacred  book  in 
which  we  find  them  written,  and  to  consider  the  subject- 
matter  of  the  whole,  but  more  particulai-ly  of  the  two 
last  chapters. 

The  book  goes  under  the  title  of  The  General  Epistle 
of  St.  John.  But  in  the  composition  of  it,  naiTowly 
inspected,  nothing  is  to  be  found  of  the  epistolary 
form.  It  is  not  inscribed  either  to  any  individual,  like 
St.  Paul's  to  Timothy  and  Titus,  or  the  second  of  the 
two  which  follow  it,  "  to  the  well  beloved  Gains," — 
nor  to  any  particular  church,  like  St.  Paul's  to  the 
churches  of  Rome,  Corinth,  Ephesus,  and  others, — 
por  to  the  faithful  of  any  particular  region,  like  St. 
Peter's  first  epistle  "  to  the  strangers  scattered  through- 
out Pontus,  Galatia,  Cappadocia,  Asia,  and  Bithynia,'' 
— nor  to  any  principal  branch  of  the  Christian  church, 
like  St.  Paul's  to  the  Hebrews, — nor  to  the  Christian 
church  in  general,  like  the  second  of  St.  Peter's,  "  to 
them  that  had  obtained  like  precious  faith  with  him," 
and  like  St.  Jude's,  "  to  them  that  are  sanctified  by  God 
the  Father,  and  preserved  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  called." 
It  bears  no  such  inscription.    It  begins  without  saluta- 


(    88    ) 

tion,  and  ends  widiout  benediction.  It  is  true,  the  writer 
sometimes  speaks,  but  without  naming  himself  in  the 
first  person,^ — and  addresses  his  reader,  without  naming 
him  in  the  second.  But  this  colloquial  style  is  very 
common  in  all  writings  of  a  plain  familiar  cast :  instances 
of  it  occur  in  St.  John's  gospel ;  and  it  is  by  no  means 
a  distinguishing  character  of  epistolary  composition.  It 
should  seem,  that  this  book  hath  for  no  other  reason 
acquired  the  title  of  an  epistle ;  but  that,  in  the  first  for- 
mation of  the  canon  of  the  New  Testament,  it  was  put 
into  the  same  volume  with  the  didactic  writings  of  the 
apostles,  which,  with  this  single  exception,  are  all  in  the 
epistolary  form.  It  is,  indeed,  a  didactic  discourse  upon 
the  principles  of  Christianity,  both  in  doctrine  and  prac- 
tice :  and  whether  we  consider  the  sublimity  of  its  open- 
ing with  the  fundamental  topics  of  God's  perfections, 
inan's  depravity,  and  Christ's  propitiation, — the  perspi- 
cuity with  which  it  propounds  the  deepest  mysteries  of 
our  holy  faith,  and  the  evidence  of  the  proof  which  it 
brings  to  confirm  them ;  whether  we  consider  the  sanc- 
tity of  its  precepts,  and  the  energy  of  argument  with 
which  they  are  persuaded  and  enforced, — the  dignified 
simplicity  of  language  in  which  both  doctrine  and  pre- 
cept are  delivered ;  whether  we  regard  the  importance  of 
the  matter,  the  propriety  of  the  style,  or  the  general 
spirit  of  ardent  piety  and  warm  benevolence,  united  with 
a  fervid  zeal,  \\hich  breathes  throughout  the  whole  com- 
position,— we  shall  find  it  in  every  respect  worthy  of  the 
holy  author  to  whom  the  constant  tradition  of  the  church 
ascribes  it,  "  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved." 

The  particular  subject  of  the  two  last  chapters  is  the 
great  doctrine  of  the  incarnation,  or,  in  St.  John's  own 
words,  cA'  Cliiist's  coming  in  the  flesh.  It  may  seem 
that  I  ought  to  say,  the  two  doctrines  of  the  incarnation 
and  the  atonement :  but  if  I  so  said,  though  I  should  not 
say  any  thing  untrue..  I  should  speak  improperly;  foi" 


i    89    }. 

'khe  incarnation  of  our  Lord,  and  the  atonement  made 
by  him,  are  not  two  separate  doctrines:  they  are  one; 
the  doctrine  of  atonement  being  included  in  that  of  the 
incarnation,  rightiy  understood,  and  as  it  is  stated  by 
St.  John, 

The  doctrine  of  the  incarnation  in  its  whole  amount  is 
this :  That  one  of  the  three  persons  of  the  Godhead  was 
united  to  a  man,  i,  e.  to  a  human  body  and  a  human 
soul,  in  the  person  of  Jesus,  in  order  to  expiate  the 
guilt  of  the  whole  human  race,  original  and  actual,  by 
the  merit,  death,  and  sufferings  of  the  man  so  united 
to  the  Godhead.  This  atonement  was  the  end  of  the 
incarnation,  and  the  two  articles  reciprocate :  for  an  in- 
*^^rnation  is  implied  and  presupposed  in  the  Scripture 
doctrine  of  atonement,  as  the  necessary  means  in  the 
end.  For  if  satisfaction  was  to  be  made  to  divine  jus- 
tice for  the  sins  of  men,  by  vicarious  obedience  and 
vicarious  sufferings,  in  such  a  way  (and  in  no  other  way 
it  could  be  consistent  with  divine  wisdom)  as  might 
attach  the  pardoned  offender  to  God's  service,  upon  a 
principle  of  love  and  gratitude,  it  was  essential  to  this 
plan,  that  God  himself  should  take  a  principal  part  in  ali 
that  his  justice  required  to  be  done  and  suffered,  to  make 
room  for  his  mercy;  and  the  divine  nature  itself  being 
incapable  of  suffering,  it  was  necessary  to  the  scheme  of 
pardon,  that  the  Godhead  should  condescend  to  unite  to 
itself  the  nature  capable. 

For,  make  the  supposition,  if  you  please,  that  after  the 
iiiU  of  Adam  another  perfect  man  had  been  created. 
Suppose  that  this  perfect  man  had  fulfilled  all  righteous- 
ness,— that,  like  our  Lord,  he  had  been  exposed  to 
temptations  of  Satan  far  more  powerful  than  those  to 
which  our  first  parents  yielded,  and  that,  like  our  Lord, 
he  had  baffled  Satan  in  every  attempt.  Suppose  this 
perfect  man  had  consented  to  offer  up  his  own  life  as  a 
ransom  for  other  lives  forfeited,  and  to  suffer  in  liis  own 
13 


(    90    ) 

person  the  utmost  misery  a  creature  could  be  made  ta 
suffer,  to  avert  punishment  from  Adam,  and  from 
Adam's  whole  posterity.  The  Ufe  he  would  have  had 
to  oifer  would  have  been  but  the  life  of  one ;  the  lives 
forfeited  were  many.  Could  one  life  be  a  ransom  for 
more  than  one  ?  Could  the  sufferings  of  one  single  man, 
upon  any  principle  upon  which  public  justice  may  exact 
and  accept  vicarious  punishment,  expiate  the  guilt  of 
more  than  one  other  man  ?  Could  it  expiate  the  apos- 
tacy  of  millions?  It  is  true,  diat  in  human  govern- 
ments, the  punishment  of  a  few  is  sometimes  accepted 
as  a  satisfaction  for  the  offence  of  many ;  as  in  military 
punishments,  when  a  regiment  is  decimated.  But  the 
cases  will  bear  no  comparison.  The  regiment  has  per- 
haps deserved  lenity  by  former  good  services,  which,  in 
the  case  between  God  and  man,  cannot  be  alleged.  The 
satisfaction  of  the  tenth  man  goes  to  no  farther  effect  than 
a  pardon  for  the  other  nine,  of  the  single  individual 
crime  that  is  passed.  The  law  remains  in  force,  and  the 
nine,  who  for  that  time  escape,  continue  subject  to 
its  rigour,  and  still  liable  to  undergo  the  punishment, 
if  the  offence  should  be  repeated.  But  such  is  the 
exuberance  of  mercy,  in  man's  redemption,  that  the 
expiation  extends  not  only  to  innumerable  offences 
past,  but  to  many  that  are  yet  to  come.  The  severity 
of  the  law  itself  is  mitigated :  the  hand- writing  of  ordi- 
iiances  is  blotted  out,  and  duty  henceforward  is  ex- 
acted upon  a  piinciplc  of  allowance  for  human  frailty. 
And  vvho  will  have  the  folly  or  the  hardiness  to  sa^,  that 
the  suffering  virtue  of  one  mere  man  would  have  been  a 
sufHcient  price  for  such  a  pardon  ?  It  must  be  added, 
that  ,when  human  authority  accepts  an  inadequate  satis- 
iuction  for  oHtnces  involving  multitudes,  the  lenity,  in 
many  cases,  arises  from  a  policy  founded  on  a  prudent 
estimation  of  the  imperfection  of  power  in  human  go- 
^nnm^nt,   whiGh  might  sustain   a   diminution   of  its 


(    91    ) 

^.tiength  by  the  loss  of  numbers.  But  God  hath  no 
need  of  the  wicked  man ;  it  would  be  no  diminution  of 
strength  to  his  government  if  a  world  should  perish :  it 
is  therefore  from  pure  mercy  that  he  ever  spiires.  The 
disobedience  of  our  first  parents  was  nothing  less  than  a 
confederacy  Vv-ith  the  apostate  spirit  against  the  sovereign 
authority  of  God :  and  if  such  oft'enders  are  spared  by 
such  a  sovereign,  it  must  be  in  a  way  which  shall  unite 
the  perfection  of  mercy  with  the  perfection  of  justice  j 
for  in  God  mercy  and  justice  must  equally  be  perfect. 

Since,  then,  one  mere  man  could  make  no  expiation  of 
the  sins  of  myriads,  make,  if  you  please,  another  sup- 
position. Suppose  an  angel  had  undertaken  for  us,— 
had  desired  to  assume  our  mortal  nature,  and  to  do  and 
suffer  for  us,  what,  done  and  suffered  by  a  man,  we 
have  found  would  have  been  inadequate.  We  shall  then 
have  the  life  of  one  incarnate  angel,  still  a  single  life, 
a  ransom  for  myriads  of  men's  lives  forfeited ;  and  the 
merit  and  sufferings  of  one  angel  to  compensate  the  guilt 
of  myriads  of  men,  and  to  be  an  equivalent  for  their 
punishment.  I  fear  the  amended  supposition  has  added 
little  or  nothing  to  the  value  of  the  pretended  satisfaction. 
What«ver  reverence  may  be  due  from  man  in  his  present 
condition  upon  earth  to  the  holy  angels  as  his  superiors, 
what  are  they  in  the  sight  of  God  ?  They  are  nothing 
better  now  than  the  glorified  saints  in  heaven  will  here-- 
after  be ;  and  "  God  charges  cvefn  his  angels  with  folly, 
and  the  heavens  are  not  pure  in  1%  sight." 

But  admit  that  either  a  perfect  ijiian,  or  an  incarnate 
angel,  had  been  able  to  pay  the  fcfeit  for  us ;  and  sup- 
pose that  the  forfeit  had  been  paioj  oy  a  person  thus  dis- 
tinct and  separate  from  the  Godhead ;  what  effect  would 
have  been  produced,  by  a  pardon  so  obtained,  in  the 
mind  of  the  pardoned  offender  ?  Joy,  no  doubt,  for  an 
unexpected  deliverance  from  impending  vengeance,—- 
love  for  the  person,  man  or  angel,  who  had  wrought  the 


(    92    ) 

deliverance, — remorse,  that  his  crimes  had  involved 
another's  innocence  in  misery ;  but  certainly  no  attach, 
ment  to  the  service  of  the  sovereign.  The  deliverer 
might  have  been  loved :  but  the  Being  whose  justice  ex- 
acred  the  satisfaction  would  have  remained  the  object  of 
mere  fear,  unmixed  with  love,  or  rather  of  fear  mixed 
with  aversion.  Pardon  thus  obtained  never  could  have 
inti:.med  the  repentant  sinner's  bosom  with  that  love  of 
God  which  alone  can  qualify  an  intelligent  creature  for 
the  enjoyment  of  the  Creator's  presence.  This  could 
only  be  effected  by  the  wonderful  scheme  in  which 
Mercy  and  Truth  are  made  to  kiss  each  other;  when 
the  same  God  who  in  ofie  person  exacts  the  punishment, 
in  another^  himself^  sustains  it ;  and  thus  makes  his  own 
mercy  pay  tlie  satisfaction  to  his  own  justice. 

So  essential  was  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God  to 
the  effectual  atonement  of  man's  guilt  by  the  shedding 
of  his  blood.  On  the  other  hand,  the  need  there  was  of 
such  atonement,  is  the  only  cause  that  can  be  assigned 
which  could  induce  the  Son  of  God  to  stoop  to  be 
made  man  :  for  had  the  instruction  of  man,  as  some  have 
dreamed,  been  the  only  purpose  of  our  Saviour's  coming, 
a  mere  man  might  have  been  empowered  to  execute  the 
whole  business;  for  whatever  knowledge  the  mind  of 
man  can  be  made  to  comprehend,  a  man  might  be  made 
the  instrument  to  convey. 

This  inseparable  and  necessary  connection  with  the 
doctrine  of  atonement,  constitutes  an  essential  difference 
between  the  awful  mystery  of  the  incarnation  in  the 
Christian  system,  and  those  avatars  in  the  superstitious 
religion  of  the  Indian  Brahmin,  which  have  been  com- 
pared with  it,  but  in  which  it  is  profanely  mimicked 
rather  than  imitated.  Yet  the  comparison  is  not  un- 
founded, nor  without  its  use,  if  it  be  conducted  with 
due  reverence  and  circumspection.  In  those  impious 
incoherent  fables,  as  in  all  the  Pagan  mythology,  and  in 


<     9S     ) 

tlie  very  worst  of  the  Pagan  rites,  vestiges  are  discernible 
of  the  history,  the  revelations,  and  the  rites  of  the  earliest 
of  the  patriarchial  ages ;  and  thus  the  worst  corruptions 
of  idolatry  may  be  brought  to  bear  an  indirect  testi- 
mony to  the  truth  of  revelation.  But  we  must  be  cau- 
tious, that,  in  making  the  comparison,  we  mistake  not 
a  hideously  distorted  picture  for  a  flattered  likeness, — a 
disfigured  for  an  embellished  copy ;  lest  we  be  inadvert- 
ently and  insensibly  reconciled  to  the  impure  and  blas- 
phemous fictions  of  idolatry, — to  her  obscene  and  savage 
rites,  as  nothing  worse  than  elegant  adumbrations  of  sa- 
cred truth  in  significant  allegory.  In  the  numerous  suc- 
cessive incarnations  of  Veeshnu,  the  deity  is  embodied 
for  subordinate  and  partial  purposes,  altogether  unwor- 
thy of  that  manner  of  interference.  The  incarnation  of 
Christ  was  for  a  purpose  which  God  only  could  accom- 
plish, and  God  himself  could  accomplish  in  no  other 
way :  it  was  for  the  execution  of  a  plan  which  divine 
wisdom  could  alone  contrive, — divine  love  and  almighty 
power  could  alone  effect :  it  was  to  rescue  those  from 
endless  misery,  whom  divine  justice  (which,  because  it 
is  mere  and  very  justice,  must  be  inflexible)  demanded 
for  its  victims. 

It  is  therefore  with  great  truth  and  reason  that  St. 
John  sets  forth  this  as  the  cardinal  doctrine  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  insomuch,  that  he  speaks  of  the  belief  of  this 
article  as  the  accomplishment  of  our  Christian  warfare^ 
— the  attainment  at  least  of  that  faith,  which,  with  cer- 
tainty, overcometh  the  world.  "  This,"  he  says,  "  is 
the  victory  m  hich  overcometh  the  world,  even  our  faith.'* 
Then  he  adds,  "  Who  is  he  that  overcometh  the  world, 
but  he  that  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God." 
"  Son  of  God,"  is  a  title  that  belongs  to  our  Lord  in  his 
human  character,  describing  him  as  that  man  who  be- 
came the  Son  of  God  by  union  with  the  Godhead ;  as 
"  Son  of  Man,"  on  the  contrary,  is  a  tide  which  belongs 


(      94r      ) 

to  the  eternal  Word,  describing  that  person  of  the  God- 
head who  was  made  man  by  uniting  himself  to  the  man 
Jesus.  To  believe,  therefore,  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of 
God,  is  to  believe,  that  he  is  God  himself  incarnate. 
This,  the  apostle  says,  is  the  faith  which  overcometh 
the  world, — inspiring  the  Christian  with  fortitude  to 
surmount  the  temptations  of  the  world,  in  whatever 
shape  they  may  assail  him.  On  the  other  hand,  the  de- 
nial: of  this  great  truth,  so  animating  to  the  believer's 
hopes,  he  represents  as  the  beginning  of  that  apostacy 
which  is  to  come  to  its  height  in  the  latter  ages,  as  one 
of  the  characters  of  Antichrist.  "  Ye  have  heard,"  he 
says,  "  that  Antichrist  shall  come :  even  now  there  are 
many  Antichrists.  Who  is  a  liar,  but  he  that  denieth 
that  Jesus  is  the  Christ ;  he  is  Antichrist,  denying  the 
Father  and  the  Son."  And  again,  "  Every  spirit  that  con- 
fesseth  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come  in  the  flesh,  is  of  God ; 
and  every  spirit  that  confesseth  not  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
come  in  the  flesh,  is  not  of  God :  and  this  is  that  spirit 
of  Antichrist,  whereof  ye  have  heard  that  it  should 
come,  and  now  already  is  it  in  the  world."  "  The 
Christ"  is  a  name  properly  alluding  to  the  inauguration 
of  the  Redeemer,  to  his  triple  ofiice  of  prophet,  priest, 
and  king,  by  the  unction  from  above.  But  in  the  phrase- 
ology of  the  heretics  of  the  apostolic  age,  it  was  used  as 
a  name  of  that  Divine  Being  with  w^hom  we  maintain, 
but  they  denied  an  union  of  the  man  Jesus.  To  deny, 
therefore,  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  was,  in  their  sense 
of  the  word  Christ,  to  deny  that  he  is  the  Son  of  God, 
or  God  himself  incarnate.  He  that  denieth  this,  says 
the  apostle,  is  a  liar,  and  is  Antichrist.  Two  remark- 
able sects  of  these  lying  Antichrists  arose  in  the  apostles' 
days, — the  sect  of  the  Corinthian  heretics,  who  denied 
the  divinity  of  our  Saviour ;  and  the  sect  of  the  Docetae, 
^vho  denied  his  manhood,  maintaining  that  the  body  of 
Jesus,  and  every  thing  he  appeared  to  do  and  suffer 


{    95    ) 

iii  it,  was  mere  illusion.  Thus,  both  equally  denied  the 
incarnation :  both,  therefore,  equally  were  liars  and  An- 
tichrists ;  and  to  give  equal  and  direct  contradiction  to 
the  lies  of  both,  St.  John  delivers  the  truth  in  these 
terms,  that  "  JesuF  is  tlie  Christ  come  in  the  flesh." 

In  my  text,  the  apostle  having  stated  the  doctrine  in 
the  preceding  verse,  gives  a  brief  summary  of  the  irre- 
sistible evidence  by  which  it  is  confirmed  to  us,  which 
he  opens  more  distinctly,  but  still  in  very  few  compre- 
hensive words,  in  the  two  subsequent  verses.  The  evi- 
dence is  such  as  must  command  the  assent  of  all  who 
understand  the  component  parts  of  it ;  and  diese  parts 
are  intelligible  to  all  who  are  well  instructed  in  their  Bi- 
bles :  so  that,  of  all  evidence,  at  the  same  time  that  it 
is  the  most  profound,  it  seems  to  be  the  most  popular, 
and  the  best  calculated  to  work  a  general  conviction.  It 
is  much  to  be  lamented,  that  this  evidence  has  been  to- 
tally overlooked  by  those,  who,  with  much  ostentation 
of  philological  learning  which  they  possessed,  and  of 
metaphysical  which  they  possessed  not,  have  composed 
laboured  demonstrations  (as  they  presume  to  call  them) 
of  natural  and  revealed  religion, — demonstratiojis  which 
have  made,  I  fear,  more  infidels  than  converts.  The 
apostle's  demonstration  proceeds  thus :  In  the  verse  pre- 
ceding my  text,  he  states  his  proposition  (though  not  for 
the  first  time),  that  "  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God:"  then 
he  adds,  "  This  is  he  that  came  by  water  and  blood, 
Jesus  the  Christ ; — not  by  the  water  only,  but  by  the 
water  and  the  blood;"  that  is,  this  is  he  who  in  the  ful- 
ness of  the  time  is  come,  according  to  die  early  promise 
of  his  coming,  Jesus,  by  water  and  blood,  proved  to  be 
the  Christ, — not  by  the  water  only,  but  by  the  water  and 
the  blood.  That  this  is  the  true  exposition  of  the  text, 
— that  the  coming  by  water  and  blood,  as  our  public 
translation  gives  the  passage,  is  coming  with  the  evi- 
dence of  the  water  and  Uie  blood,  proving  that  he  was 


(    96    ) 

tlie  Christ, — appeal's  from  the  distinct  explication  which 
immediately  follows  of  the  whole  evidence,  of  which 
the  water  and  the  blood  make  principal  parts.  For  thus 
the  aposde  proceeds :  "  And  the  spirit  beareth  witness 
(or  more  literally,  the  spirit  is  a  thing  witnessing),  be- 
cause the  spirit  is  truth."  The  word  spirit  signifies 
here,  as  in  many  other  places,  the  gift  of  tongues,  and 
other  extraordinary  endowments,  preternaturally  con- 
ferred by  the  agency  of  the  spirit,  not  on  the  apostles 
only,  but  on  believers  in  general  in  the  apostolic  age. 
When  the  word  signifies  the  Divine  person,  the  epithet 
Holy  is  usually  joined  with  it.  This  spirit  is  a  "  thing 
witnessing,"  besides  the  water  and  the  blood,  because 
this  "  spirit  is  truth."  It  is  the  completion  of  a  promise. 
These  extraordinary  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  consisting  in  an 
improvement  of  the  faculties  of  the  mind  for  the  appre- 
hension of  divine  truth,  and  in  enlargements  of  its  com- 
mand over  the  bodily  organs  (as  in  the  gift  of  tongues), 
for  the  propagation  of  it,  were  an  evident  completion  of 
the  promise  given  by  our  Lord  to  the  apostles,  expressly 
in  the  character  of  the  Son  of  God,  that  after  his  return 
to  the  Father,  he  would  send  the  Spirit  to  lead  them  into 
all  truth.  These  gifts,  therefore,  the  fulfilment  of  that 
promise,  were  the  truth  making  good  the  words ;  which 
truth  proved  the  sincerity  and  veracity  of  the  giver  of  the 
promise,  and  established  his  pretensions.  Thus,  this 
spirit,  because  it  was  truth,  was  a  thing  bearing  witness 
together  with  the  water  and  the  blood. 

The  apostle  goes  on :  "  For  there  are  three  which  bear 
record  in  heaven  (i.  e.  there  are  three  in  heaven  which 
bear  record), — the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost ;  and  these  three  are  one.  And  there  are  three 
that  bear  witness  in  the  earth, — the  spirit,  and  the  water, 
and  the  blood ;  and  these  three  agree  in  one." 

I  shall  not  enter  into  argument  in  defence  of  the  verse 
containing  the  testimony  of  the  Three  in  heaven.    It 


(    97    ) 

has,  indeed,  of  late  years  been  brought  under  suspicion  -, 
and  the  authenticity  of  it  has  been  given  up  by  men  of 
great  learning  and  unquestioned  piety,  even  among  the 
orthodox.  But  I  conceive  that  the  exposition  which  I 
shall  give  of  the  entire  passage,  will  best  vindicate  the 
sincerity  of  the  text  as  it  stands,  against  tlie  exceptions 
of  an  over-subtle  criticism  in  these  late  ages,  contradict- 
ing the  explicit  testimony  of  St.  Jerome,  that  critical 
reviser  of  the  Latin  version,  in  the  fourth  century,  or, 
at  the  latest,  in  the  very  beginning  of  the  fifth,  corrobo- 
rated as  it  is  by  the  citations  of  still  earlier  fathers. 

"  There  are  three,"  says  the  apostle  (for  these  I  as- 
sume as  his  genuine  words),  "  There  are  three  in  hea- 
ven that  bear  record," — record  to  this  ftict,  that)  Jesus 
is  the  Christ,  "  the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost."  The  Father  bare  witness  by  his  own  voice 
from  heaven,  twice  declaring  Jesus 'his  beloved  Son, — 
first,  after  his  baptism,  when  he  came  up  out  of  the  ri- 
ver, and  again  at  the  transfiguration.  A  third  time  the 
Father  bare  witness,  when  he  sent  his  angel  to  Jesus  in 
agony  in  the  garden.  The  eternal  Word  bare  witness, 
by  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  dwelling  in  Jesus  bodily, 
— by  that  plenitude  of  strength  and  power  with  which 
he  was  supplied  for  the  performance  of  his  miracles,  and 
the  endurance  in  his  frail  and  mortal  body  of  the  fire  of 
the  Father's  wrath.  The  Word  bare  witness, — perhaps 
more  indirectly, — still  the  Word  bare  \vitness,  by  the 
preternatural  darkness  which  for  three  hours  obscured 
the  sun,  while  Jesus  hung  in  torment  upon  the  cross ;  in 
the  quaking  of  the  earth,  the  rending  of  the  rocks,  and 
the  opening  of  the  graves,  to  liberate  the  bodies  of  the 
saints  which  appeared  in  the  holy  city  after  our  Lord's 
resurrection  :  for  these  extraordinary  convulsions  of  the 
material  world  must  be  ascribed  to  that  power  by  which 
God  in  the  beginning  created  it,  and  still  directs  the 
course  of  it, — that  is,  to  the  immediate  act  of  the  Word: 
14 


(    98    ) 

lor  "  by  him  all  things  were  made,  and  he  upholdeth  all 
things  by  the  word  of  his  own  power."  The  Holy- 
Ghost  bare  witness,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  the  in- 
fant Jesus,  made,  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
by  the  mouths  of  his  servants  and  instruments  Simeon 
and  Anna;  and  more  directly,  by  his  visible  descent 
upon  the  adult  Jesus  at  his  baptism,  and  upon  the  apos- 
tles of  Jesus  after  the  ascension  of  their  Lord.  ThuS 
the  Three  in  heaven  bare  witness ;  and  these  three,  the 
apostle  adds,  are  one,  one  in  the  unity  of  a  consentient 
testimony ;  for  that  unity  is  all  that  is  requisite  to  the 
purpose  of  the  apostle's  present  argument.  It  is  re- 
markable, however,  that  he  describes  the  unity  of  the 
testimony  of  the  three  celestial  and  the  three  terrestrial 
witnesses  in  different  terms, — I  conceive  for  this  reason. 
Of  the  latter  more  could  not  be  said  with  truth  than  that 
they  "  agree  in  one ;"  for  they  are  not  one  in  nature  and 
substance :  but  the  Three  in  heaven  being  in  substance 
and  in  nature  one,  he  asserts  the  agreement  of  their  tes- 
timony in  terms  which  predicate  their  substantial  unity, 
in  which  the  consent  of  testimony  is  necessarily  in- 
cluded ;  lest,  if  he  applied  no  higher  phrase  to  them  than 
to  the  terrestrial  witnesses,  he  might  seem  tacitly  to  qua- 
lify and  lower  his  own  doctrine.  Ha  goes  on :  "  i\.nd 
there  are  three  in  earth  that  bare  witness, — the  spirit, 
and  the  water,  and  the  blood ;  and  these  three  agree  in 
one." 

Having  thus  detailed  the  particulars  of  the  evidence, 
the  apostle  closes  this  part  of  his  argument  with  these 
words:  "  This  is  the  witness  of  God;"  that  is,  this 
testimony,  made  up  of  six  several  parts,  the  witness  of 
three  witnesses  in  heaven,  and  the  witness  of  three  wit- 
nesses in  earth, — this,  taken  altogether,  is  "  the  witness 
of  God  which  he  hath  testified  of  his  Son." 

The  spirit  here,  in  the  eighth  verse,  as  well  as  in  m^ 
text,  is  evidently  to  be  understood  of  the  gifts  preter- 


(     99     } 

iiaturally  conferred  upon  believers.  But  what  is  the 
Water,  and  what  is  the  blood,  produced  as  two  other 
terrestrial  witnesses  ?  what  is  their  deposition,  and  what 
is  its  effect  and  amount? 

No  one  who  recollects  the  circumstances  of  the  cruci- 
fixion, as  they  are  detailed  in  St.  John's  gospel,  can  for 
a  moment  entertain  a  doubt,  that  the  water  and  the  blood 
mentioned  here  as  witnesses,  are  the  water  and  the  blood 
which  issued  from  the  Redeemer's  side,  when  his  body, 
already  dead,  was  pierced  by  a  soldier  with  a  spear. 
But  how  were  these  witnesses,  and  what  did  they  attest  ? 
First,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  the  stream,  not  of  blood 
alone,  but  of  water  with  the  blood,  was  something  pre- 
ternatural and  miraculous :  for  St.  John  dwells  upon  it 
with  earnest  reiterated  asseveration,  as  a  thing  so  won- 
derful that  the  explicit  testimony  of  an  eye-witness  was 
requisite  to  make  it  credible,  and  yet  of  great  import- 
ance to  be  accredited,  as  a  main  foundation  of  faith. 
"  One  of  the  soldiers,"  the  evangelist  saith,  "  with  u 
spear  pierced  his  side,  and  forthwith  came  thereout 
blood  and  water.  And  he  that  saw  it  bare  record,  and 
liis  record  is  true,  and  he  knoweth  that  he  saith  ti'ue, 
that  ye  might  believe."  When  a  man  accompanies  the 
assertion  of  a  fact  with  this  declaration,  that  he  was  an 
eye-witness, — that  what  he  asserts  he  himself  believes  to 
be  true, — that  he  was  under  no  deception  at  the  time, — 
that  he  not  only  believes,  but  knows  the  fact  to  be  true, 
from  the  certain  information  of  his  own  senses, — that  he 
is  anxious  for  the  sake  of  others  that  it  should  be  be- 
lieved,— he  certainly  speaks  of  something  extraordinary 
and  hard  to  be  believed,  and  yet  in  his  judgment  of  great 
importance.  The  piercing  of  our  Saviour's  side  with  a 
spear,  and  the  not  breaking  of  his  legs,  though  that  piece 
of  cruelty  was  usually  practised  among  the  Romans  in 
the  execution  of  that  horrible  punisliment  which  it  was 
our  Lord's  lot  to  undergo,  had  been  facts  of  great  im- 


{     100    ) 

portaiice,  though  nothing  had  issued  from  the  wound ; 
because,  as  the  evangehst  observes,  they  were  the  com- 
pletion of  two  very  remarkable  prophecies  concerning  the 
Messiah's  sufferings.    But  there  was  nothing  in  either, 
in  the  doing  of  the  one,  or  the  not  doing  of  the  other,  so 
much  out  of  the  common  course  as  to  be  difficult  of  be- 
lief.   The  streaming  of  the  blood  from  a  wound  in  a  body 
so  lately  dead,  that  the  blood  might  well  be  supposed  to 
be  yet  fluid,  would  have  been  nothing  remarkable.    The 
extraordinary  circumstance  must  have  been,  the  flowing 
of  the  water  with  the  blood.     Some  men  of  learning 
have  imagined,  that  the  water  which  issued  in  this  in- 
stance with  the  blood,  was  the  fluid  with  which  the  heart 
in  its  natural  situation  in  the  human  body  is  surrounded. 
This,   chemists  perhaps  may  class  among  the   watery- 
fluids  ;  being  neither  viscous  like  an  oil,  nor  inflammable 
like  spirits,  nor  elastic  or  volatile  like  an  air  or  ether  :  it 
differs,  however,  remarkably  from  plain  water,  as  ana- 
tomists assert,  in  the  colour  and  other  qualities:  and 
that  this  fluid  should  issue  with  the  blood  of  the  heart, 
^vhen  a  sharp  weapon  had  divided  the  membranes  which 
enclose  it,  as  the  spear  must  have  done  before  it  reached 
the  heart,  had  been  nothing  more  extraordinary  than  that 
blood  by  itself  should  have  issued  at  a  wound  in  any 
other  part.    Besides,  in  the  detail  of  a  fact,  narrated 
with  so  much  earaestness  to  gain  belief,  the  evangelist 
must  be  supposed  to  speak  with  the  most  scrupulous 
precision,  and  to  call  every  thing  by  its  name.    The  wa- 
ter, therefore,  which  he  says  he  saw  streaming  from  the 
wound,  was  as  truly  water,  as  the  blood  was  blood ;  the 
pure  element  of  water, — transparent,  colourless,  insipid, 
inodorous  water.    And  here  is  the  miracle,  that  pure 
water,  instead  of  the  fluid  of  the  pericardium  in  its  na- 
tural state,  should  have  issued  with  the  blood  from  a 
wound  in  the  region  of  the  heart.    This  pure  water  and 
the  blood  coming  forth  together,  are  two  of  the  three 


(     101     ) 

tertestrial  witnesses,  whose  testimony  is  so  efiicacious, 
in  St.  John's  judgment,  for  the  confirmation  of  our 
faith. 

But  how  do  this  water  and  this  blood  bear  witness 
that  the  crucified  Jesus  was  the  Christ?  Water  and 
blood  were  the  indispensable  instruments  of  cleansing 
and  expiation  in  all  the  cleansings  and  expiations  of  the 
law.  "  Almost  all  things,"  saith  St.  Paul,  "  are  by  the 
law  purged  with  blood ;  and  without  shedding  of  blood 
there  is  no  remission."  But  the  purgation  was  not  by 
blood  only,  but  by  blood  and  water ;  for  the  same  apos- 
tle says,  "  When  Moses  had  spoken  every  precept  to  all 
the  people,  according  to  the  law,  he  took  the  blood  of 
calves  and  of  goats,  with  water,  and  sprinkled  both  the 
book  and  all  the  people."  All  the  cleansings  and  expia- 
tions of  the  law,  by  water  and  animal  blood,  were  typical 
of  the  real  cleansing  of  the  conscience  by  the  water  of 
baptism,  and  of  the  expiation  of  real  guilt  by  the  blood 
ef  Christ  shed  upon  the  cross,  and  virtually  taken  and 
received  by  the  faithful  in  the  Lord's  supper.  The 
flowing,  therefore,  of  this  water  and  this  blood,  imme- 
diately upon  our  Lord's  death,  from  the  wound  opened 
in  his  side,  was  a  notification  to  the  surrounding  multi- 
tudes, though  at  the  time  understood  by  few,  that  the 
real  expiation  was  now  complete,  and  the  cleansing  fount 
set  open.  O  wonderful  exhibition  of  the  goodness  and 
severity  of  God !  It  is  the  ninth  hour,  and  Jesus,  strong 
to  the  last  in  suffering,  commending  his  spirit  to  the  Fa- 
ther, exclaims  with  a  loud  voice,  diat  "  it  is  finished," 
bows  his  anointed  head,  and  renders  up  the  ghost.  Na- 
ture is  convulsed !  Earth  trembles !  The  sanctuary,  that 
type  of  the  heaven  of  heavens,  is  suddenly  and  forcibly 
thrown  open  !  The  tombs  are  burst !  Jesus  hangs  upon 
the  cross  a  corpse !  And  lo  the  fountain,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  prophet,  v/as  this  day  to  be  set  open  for  sin 
and  for  pollution,  is  seen  suddenly  springing  from  his 


(     102    ) 

wound! — Who,  contemplating  only  in  imagination  the 
mysterious  awful  scene,  exclaims  not  with  the'  centurion, 
"  Truly  this  was  the  Son  of  God!" — truly  he  was  the 
Christ. 

Thus  I  have  endeavoured  to  explain  how  the  water 
and  the  blood,  together  with  the  spirit,  ai'e  witnesses 
upon  earth,  to  establish  the  faith  which  overcometh  the 
world.  Much  remains  untouched ;  but  the  time  forbids 
me  to  proceed.  One  thing  only  I  must  add, — that  the 
faith  which  overcometh  the  world  consists  not  in  the  in- 
voluntary assent  of  the  mind  to  historical  evidence,  nor 
in  its  assent,  perhaps  still  more  involuntary,  to  the  con- 
clusions of  argument  from  facts  proved  and  admitted. 
All  this  knowledge  and  all  this  understanding  the  devils 
possess,  yet  have  not  faith ;  and,  believing  without  faith, 
they  tremble.  Faith  is  not  merely  a  speculative,  but  a 
practical  acknowledgment  of  Jesus  as  the  Christ, — an 
eifort  and  motion  of  the  mind  toward  God,  when  the 
sinner,  convinced  of  sin,  accepts  with  thankfulness  the 
proffered  terms  of  pardon,  and,  in  humble  confidence, 
applying  individually  to  self  the  benefit  of  the  general 
atonement,  in  the  elevated  language  of  a  venerable  fa- 
ther of  the  church,  drinks  of  the  stream  which  flows 
from  the  Redeemer's  wounded  side.  The  effect  is,  that, 
in  a  little,  he  is  filled  with  that  perfect  love  of  God  which 
casteth  out  fear, — he  cleaves  to  God  with  the  entire  af- 
fection of  the  soul.  And  from  this  acti\'e  lively  faith, 
overcoming  the  world,  subduing  carnal  self,  all  these 
good  works  do  necessarily  spring,  which  God  hath  be- 
fore ordained  that  we  should  walk  in  them. 


SERMON    IX 


Luke  iv.  18,  19. 


The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath 
anointed  me  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor  ;  he  hath 
sent  me  to  heal  the  broken  hearted,  to  preach  deliver- 
ance to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the 
blind, — to  set  at  liberty  thein  that  are  bruised^ — to 
preach  the  acceptable  ijear  of  the  Lord^^ 

IT  was,  as  it  should  seem,  upon  our  Saviour's  first 
appearance  in  the  synagogue  at  Nazareth,  the  residence 
of  his  family,  in  the  character  of  a  public  teacher,  that 
to  the  astonishment  of  that  assembly,  where  he  was 
known  only  as  the  carpenter's  son,  he  applied  to  himself 
that  remarkable  passage  of  Isaiah  which  the  evangelist 
recites  in  the  words  of  my  text.  "  This  day,"  said  our 
Lord,  "  is  this  scripture  fulfilled  in  your  ears."  The 
phrase  "  this  day,"  is  not,  I  think,  to  be  understood  of 
that  particular  Sabbath-day  upon  which  he  undertook  to 
expound  this  prophetic  text  to  the  men  of  Nazareth ; 
nor  "  your  ears,"  of  the  ears  of  the  individual  congre- 
gation assembled  at  the  time  within  the  walls  of  that 
particular  synagogue.  The  expressions  are  to  be  taken 
according  to  the  usual  latitude  of  common  speech, — 
"  this  day,"  for  the  whole  time  of  our  Lord's  appear- 
ance in  the  flesh,  or  at  least  for  the  whole  season  of  his 

Preached  before  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowlwlge,  Jane  1,  \7^j. 


(     104    ) 

public  ministry;  and  "your  ears,"  for  the  cars  of  all 
you  inhabitants  of  Judea  and  Galilee,  who  now  hear  my 
doctrine  and  see  my  miracles.  Our  Lord  affirms  that  in 
his  works,  and  in  his  daily  preaching,  his  countrymen 
might  discern  the  full  completion  of  this  prophetic  text, 
inasmuch  as  he  was  the  person  upon  whom  the  Spirit  of 
Jehovah  was — whom  Jehovah  had  anointed  "  to  preach 
the  gospel  to  the  poor" — whom  Jehovah  had  sent  "  to 
heal  the  broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliverance  to  the 
captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind, — to  set  at 
liberty  them  that  are.  bruised,  and  to  preach  the  accept- 
able year  of  the  Lord." 

None  but  an  inattentive  reader  of  the  Bible  can  sup- 
pose that  these  words  were  spoken  by  the  prophet 
Isaiah  of  himself.  Isaiah  had  a  portion,  without  doubt, 
but  a  portion  only,  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  In  any  sense 
in  which  the  Spirit  of  Jehovah  was  upon  the  prophet,  it 
was  more  eminently  upon  him  who  received  it  not  by 
measure.  The  prophet  Isaiah  restored  not,  that  we 
know,  any  blind  man  to  his  sight, — he  delivered  no 
captive  from  his  chain.  He  predicted  indeed  the  restor- 
ation of  the  Jews  from  the  Babylonian  captivity,— -their 
final  restoration  from  their  present  dispersion,  and  the 
restoration  of  man  from  the  worse  captivity  of  sin :  but 
he  never  took  upon  him  to  proclaim  the  actual  com- 
mencement of  the  season  of  liberation,  which  is  the 
thing  properly  implied  in  the  phrase  of  "  preaching  deli- 
verance to  the  captives."  To  the  broken-hearted  he 
administered  no  other  balm  than  the  distant  hope  of  one 
who  in  future  times  should  bear  their  sorrows ;  nor  were 
the  poor  of  his  own  time  particularly  interested  in  his 
preaching.  The  characters,  therefore,  which  the  speaker 
seems  to  assume  in  this  prophetic  text,  are  of  two  kinds, 
— such  as  are  in  no  sense  answered  by  any  known  cir- 
cumstance in  the  life  and  character  of  Isaiah,  or  of  any 
other  personage  of  the  ancient  Jewish  history,  but  in 


(    105    ) 

every  sense,  literal  and  figurative,  of  which  the  terms 
are  capable,  apply  to  Christ;  and  such  as  might  in  some 
degree  be  answered  in  the  prophet's  character,  but  not 
otherwise  than  as  his  office  bore  a  subordinate  rela- 
tion to  Christ's  office,  and  his  predictions  to  Christ's 
preaching.  It  is  a  thing  well  known  to  all  who  have 
been  conversant  in  Isaiah's  writings,  that  many  of  his 
prophecies  are  conceived  in  the  form  of  dramatic  dia- 
logues, in  which  the  usual  persons  of  the  sacred  piece 
are  God  the  Father,  the  Messiah,  the  prophet  him- 
self, and  a  chorus  of  the  faithful :  but  it  is  left  to  the 
reader  to  discover,  by  the  matter  spoken,  how  many 
of  these  speakers  are  introduced,  and  to  which  speaker 
each  part  of  the  discourse  belongs.  It  had  been  reason- 
able therefore  to  suppose,  that  this,  like  many  other 
passages,  is  delivered  in  the  person  of  the  Messiah,  had 
our  Lord's  authority  been  wanting  for  the  application 
of  the  prophecy  to  himself.  Following  the  express  au- 
thority of  our  Lord,  in  the  application  of  this  prophecy 
to  him,  we  might  have  spared  tiie  use  of  any  other  ar- 
gument, were  it  not  that  a  new  form  of  infidelity  of  late 
hath  reared  its  hideous  head,  which,  canying  on  an  im- 
pious opposition  to  the  genuine  faith,  under  the  pretence 
of  reformation,  in  its  affected  zeal  to  purge  the  Christian 
doctrine  of  I  know  not  what  corruptions,  and  to  restore 
our  creed  to  what  it  holds  forth  as  the  primitive  standard, 
— under  that  infatuation,  which  by  the  just  judgment  of 
God  ever  clings  to  self-sufficient  folly,  pretends  to  have 
discovered  inaccuracies  in  our  Lord's  own  doctrine,  and 
scruples  not  to  pronounce  him,  not  merely  a  man,  but 
a  man  peccable  and  fallible  in  that  degree  as  to  have 
misquoted  and  misapplied  the  prophecies  of  the  Old 
Testament.  In  this  instance  our  great  Lord  and  master 
defies  the  profane  censures  of  the  doctors  of  that  impious 
school.  This  text,  referred  to  its  original  place  in  the 
book  of  Isaiah,  is  evidently  the  opening  of  a  prophetic 
15 


(    106    ; 

dialogue;  and  in  the  particulars  of  the  character  de- 
scribed in  it,  it  carries  its  own  internal  evidence  of  its 
necessary  reference  to  our  Lord,  and  justifies  his  appli- 
cation of  it  to  himself,  as  will  farther  appear  from  a  more 
particular  exposition. 

"  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,"  or  "  over  me.** 
The  expression  implies  a  superiority  and  control  of  the 
Divine  Spirit, — the  Spirit's  government  and  guidance  of 
the  man,  and  the  man's  entire  submission,  in  the  pro- 
secution of  the  work  he  had  in  hand,  to  the  Spirit's  di- 
rection. 

"  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath 
anointed  me."  Under  the  law,  the  three  great  offices  of 
prophet,  priest,  and  king,  were  conferred  by  the  cere- 
mony of  anointing  the  person.  The  unction  of  our  Lord 
was  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon  him  at  his  bap- 
tism. This  was  analogous  to  the  ceremony  of  anointing, 
as  it  was  a  mark  publicly  exhibited,  "  that  God  had 
anointed  him,"  to  use  St.  Peter's  expression,  "  with  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  Math  power." 

It  will  seem  nothing  strange  that  Jesus,  who  was  him- 
self God,  should  derive  authority  from  the  unction  of 
that  Spirit  which  upon  other  occasions  he  is  said  to  give, 
and  that  he  should  be  under  the  Spirit's  direction,  if  it 
be  remembered  that  our  Lord  was  as  truly  man  as  he 
M^as  truly  God, — diat  neither  of  the  two  natures  was  ab- 
sorbed in  the  other,  but  both  remained  in  themselves 
perfect,  notwithstanding  the  union  of  the  two  in  one 
person.  The  Divine  Word,  to  which  the  humanity  was 
united,  was  not,  as  some  ancient  heretics  imagined,  in- 
stead of  a  soul  to  inform  the  body  of  the  man ;  for  this 
could  not  have  been  without  a  diminution  of  the  divi- 
nity, which,  upon  this  supposition,  must  have  become 
obnoxious  to  all  the  perturbations  of  the  human  soul, — 
to  the  passions  of  grief,  fear,  anger,  pity,  joy,  hope,  and 
disappointment, — to  all  which  our  Lord,  without  sin, 


(    107    ) 

'was  liable.  The  human  nature  in  our  Lord  was  com- 
plete in  both  its  parts,  consisting  of  a  body  and  a  ra- 
tional soul.  The  rational  soul  of  our  Lord's  human  na- 
ture was  a  distinct  thing  from  the  principle  of  divinity  to 
which  it  was  united ;  and  being  so  distinct,  like  the  souls 
of  other  men,  it  owed  the  right  use  of  its  faculties,  in 
the  exercise  of  them  upon  religious  subjects,  and  its 
uncorrupted  rectitude  of  will,  to  the  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  God.  Jesus  indeed  "  was  anointed  with 
this  holy  oil  above  his  fellows,"  inasmuch  as  the  inter- 
course was  uninterrupted, — the  illumination  by  infinite 
degrees  more  full,  and  the  consent  and  submission,  on 
the  part  of  the  man,  more  perfect  than  in  any  of  the 
sons  of  Adam ;  insomuch,  that  he  alone,  of  all  the  hu- 
mim  race,  by  the  strength  and  light  imparted  from  above, 
was  exempt  from  sin,  and  rendered  superior  to  tempta- 
tion. To  him  the  Spirit  was  given  not  by  measure. 
The  unmeasured  infusion  of  the  Spirit  into  the  Re- 
deemer's soul,  was  not  the  means,  but  the  effect,  of  its 
union  to  the  second  person  of  the  Godhead.  An  union 
of  which  this  had  been  the  means,  had  differed  only  in 
degree  from  that  Avhich  is  in  some  degree  the  privilege 
of  every  true  believer, — which  in  an  eminent  degree  was 
the  privilege  of  the  apostles,  who,  by  the  visible  descent 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon  them  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
were  in  some  sort,  like  their  Lord,  anointed  with  the 
unction  from  on  high.  But  in  him  the  natures  were 
united,  and  the  uninterrupted  perfect  commerce  of  his 
human  soul  with  the  Divine  Spirit,  was  the  effect  and 
the  privilege  of  that  mysterious  conjunction. 

"  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath 
anointed  me  to  preach  the  gospel."  To  preach  the  gos- 
pel.— The  original  word,  which  is  expressed  in  our  En- 
glish Bibles  by  the  word  "  gospel,"  signifies  good  news, 
a  joyful  message,  or  glad  tidings :  and  our  English  word 
"  gospel,"  traced  to  its  original  in  the  Teutonic  language, 


(     108    ) 

is  ibiind  to  cany  precisely  the  same  import,  being  a 
compound  of  two  words,  an  adjective  signifying  good^ 
and  a  substantive  which  signifies  a  tale^  message^  or  de- 
claration. But  as  this  signification  of  the  English  word, 
by  the  general  neglect  of  the  parent  language,  is  pretty 
much  forgotten,  or  remembered  only  among  the  learned, 
it  may  give  perspicuity  to  the  text,  if  for  the  single  word 
"  gospel,"  we  substitute  the  two  words  "  glad  tidings." 
"  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath 
anointed  me  to  preach  glad  tidings  to.  the  poor ;  he  hath 
sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliver- 
ance to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind,, 
— to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised, — to  preach  the 
acceptable  year  of  the  Lord." 

Our  blessed  Lord,  in  the  course  of  his  ministry,  re- 
stored the  sight  of  tlie  corporeal  ej^^e  to  many  who  were 
literally  blind.  By  his  miraculous  assistance  in  various 
instances  of  worldly  afiliction,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  any 
human  aid,  he  literally  healed  the  broken  heart,  as  in  the 
instance  of  Jairus,  whose  breathless  daughter  he  revived 
— of  the  widow  of  Nain,  whose  son  he  restored  to  her 
from  the  coffin — of  the  family  of  Lazarus,  whom  he  raised 
from  the  grave — of  the  Syrophcenician  woman,  whose 
young  daughter  he  rescued  from  possession — and  of  many 
other  sufferers,  whose  several  cases  time  would  fail  me  to 
recount.  We  read  not,  however,  that  during  his  life  on 
earth  he  literally  opened  the  doors  of  any  earthly  prison, 
for  the  enlargement  of  the  captive,  or  that  in  any  instance 
he  literally  released  the  slave  or  tlie  convict  from  the 
burden  of  the  galling  chain.  It  is  probable,  therefore, 
that  all  these  expressions  of  "  the  poor,  tlie  broken- 
hearted, the  captive,  the  blind,  and  the  bruised,"  caiT> 
something  of  a  mystic  meaning,  denoting  moral  disor- 
ders and  deficiencies  under  the  image  of  natural  cala- 
mities and  imperfections ;  and  that  the  various  benefits 
of  redemption  are  described  under  tlie  notion  of  remedies 


{     109     ) 

applied  to  those  natural  afflictions  and  distempers.  In 
this  figurative  sense,  the  poor  are  not  those  who  are  des- 
titute of  this  world's  riches,  but  those  who,  before  our 
Lord's  appearance  in  the  flesh,  were  poor  in  religious 
treasure,  without  any  clear  knowledge  of  the  true  God, 
of  their  own  duty  here,  and  of  their  hope  hereafter, — 
the  whole  heathen  world,  destitute  of  the  light  of  reve- 
lation. To  them  our  Lord  preached  the  glad  tidings  of 
life  and  immortality.  The  broken-hearted  are  sinners, 
not  hardened  in  their  sins,  but  desponding  under  a  sense 
of  guilt,  without  a  hope  of  expiation.  These  broken 
hearts  the  Redeemer  healed,  by  making  the  atonement, 
and  by  declaring  the  means  and  the  terms  of  reconcilia- 
tion. The  captives  are  they  who  were  in  bondage  to  the 
law  of  sin,  domineering  in  their  members,  and  over- 
powering the  will  of  the  conscience  and  the  rational  fa- 
Gulty.  The  blind  are  the  devout  but  erring  Jews  of  our 
Lord's  days,  blind  to  the  spiritual  sense  of  the  symbols 
of  their  ritual  law.  The  bruised  are  the  same  Jews, 
bruised  in  their  consciences  by  the  galling  fetters  of  a 
religion  of  external  ordinances,  whom  our  Lord  released 
by  the  promulgation  of  his  perfect  law  of  liberty.  But 
notwithstanding  that  the  expressions  in  my  text  may 
easily  bear,  and  in  the  intention  of  the  inspiring  Spirit, 
certainly,  I  think,  involved  this  mystic  meaning,  yet 
since  the  prophecy,  in  some  of  these  particulars,  had  a 
literal  accomplishment  in  our  Lord's  miracles,  tlie  lite- 
ral meaning  is  by  no  means  to  be  excluded.  Indeed, 
when  of  both  meanings  of  a  prophet's  phrase,  the  literal 
and  the  figurative,  either  seems  clearly  and  equally  ad- 
missible, the  true  rule  of  the  interpretation  seems  to  be, 
that  the  phrase  is  to  be  understood  in  both.  This  seems 
a  clear  conclusion  from  the  very  nature  of  our  Lord's 
miracles,  which,  for  the  most  part,  were  actions  dis- 
tincdy  symbolical  of  one  or  other  of  the  spiritual  bene- 
fits of  the  redemption:  as  such,  they  were  literal  com 


(   no  ) 

pietions  oi'  the  prophecies,  taking  the  place,  as  it  were, 
of  the  prophecies  so  completed,  pointing  to  another 
latent  meaning,  and  to  a  higher  completion,  and  thus 
forming  a  strict  and  wonderful  union  between  the  letter 
and  the  spirit  of  the  prophetic  language. 

This  text  is  not  the  only  passage  in  the  prophetic  writ- 
ings, in  which  the  preaching  of  glad  tidings  to  the  poor 
is  mentioned  as  a  principal  branch  of  the  Messiah's  office. 
That  in  the  exposition  of  these  prophecies,  the  figura- 
tive sense  of  the  expression  is  not  to  exclude  the  literal, 
is  evident  from  this  consideration,  that  the  discoveries 
of  the  Christian  revelation  are  in  fact  emphatically  glad 
tidings  to  the  poor,  in  the  literal  acceptation  of  the  word, 
— to  those  who  are  destitute  of  v/orldly  riches.  To 
those  who,  from  their  present  condition,  might  be  likely 
to  think  themselves  forsaken  of  their  Maker, — to  doubt 
whether  they  existed  for  any  other  purpose  than  to  mi- 
nister to  the  supeifiuous  enjoyments  of  the  higher  ranks 
of  society,  by  the  severity  of  their  own  toil,— to  per- 
sons in  this  low  condition,  and  under  these  gloomy  ap- 
prehensions, was  it  not  glad  tidings  to  be  told  that  they 
had  a  hope,  beyond  the  infidel's  expectation,  of  a  per- 
petual cessation  of  sorrow  in  the  grave  ? — hope  of  a  daj", 
when  all  shall  rise,  to  meet  before  die  common  Lord, 
high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  one  with  another! — when, 
v»'ithout  regard  to  the  distinctions  of  this  transitory  life, 
each  hian  shall  receive  his  proper  portion  of  honour  or 
shame,  enjoyment  or  misery,  according  to  the  degree 
of  his  moral  and  religious  worth ! — that  he  whose  hum- 
ble station  excluded  him,  in  this  life,  from  the  society 
and  the  pleasures  of  the  great  (now  fallen  from  their 
greatness),  shall  become  the  companion  and  the  fellow 
of  angels  and  of  glorified  saints !  shall  stand  for  ever  in 
the  presence  of  his  Redeemer  and  his  God,  and  partake 
of  the  pleasures  \\'hich  are  at  God's  right  hand ! 

Again,  the  discoveries  of  Christianity  were  made  in 


(  111  ) 

a  manner  the  mo3t  suited  to  popular  apprehension;  and, 
for  that  reason,  they  were  emphatically  glad  tidings  to 
the  poor.  Its  duties  are  not  delivered  in  a  system  built 
on  abstract  notions  of  the  eternal  fitness  of  things, — of 
the  useful  and  the  fair, — notions  not  void  of  truth,  but 
intelligible  only  to  minds  highly  improved  by  long  habits 
of  study  and  reflection.  In  the  gospel,  the  duties  of 
man  are  laid  down  in  short,  perspicuous,  comprehensive 
precepts,  delivered  as  the  commands  of  God,  under  the 
awful  sanctions  of  eternal  rewards  and  punishments. 
The  doctrines  of  the  Christian  revelation  are  not  en- 
cumbered with  a  long  train  of  argumentative  proof, 
which  is  apt  to  bewilder  the  vulgar,  no  less  than  it  gra- 
tifies the  learned ;  they  are  propounded  to  the  faith  of 
all,  upon  the  authority  of  a  teacher  who  came  down 
from  heaven,  "  to  speak  what  he  knew,  and  testify  what 
he  had  seen." 

Again,  the  poor  are  they  on  whom  the  Christian  doc- 
trine would  most  readily  take  effect.  Christ's  atone- 
ment, it  is  true,  hath  been  made  for  all.  The  benefits 
of  redemption  are  no  less  common  to  all  ranks  of  so- 
ciety than  to  all  nations  of  the  world ;  and  upon  this 
ground,  the  first  news  of  the  Saviour's  birth  was  justly 
called,  by  the  angels  who  proclaimed  it,  "  glad  tidings 
of  great  joy  which  should  be  to  all  people."  Every  si- 
tuation of  life  hath  its  proper  temptations  and  its  proper 
duties;  and  with  the  aids  which  the  gospel  oflTers,  the 
temptations  of  all  situations  are  equally  surmountable, 
and  the  duties  equally  within  the  power  of  the  believer's 
improved  strength.  It  were  a  derogation  from  the  great- 
ness of  our  Lord's  work,  to  suppose,  that  with  an  equal 
strength  of  religious  principle  once  formed,  the  attain- 
ment of  salvation  should  be  more  precarious  in  any  one 
rank  of  life  than  in  another.  But  if  we  consider  the 
different  ranks  of  men,  not  as  equally  religious,  but  as 
equally  widiout  religion,  which  was  the  deplorable  situa- 


(     112     } 

lion  of  the  world  when  Christianity  made  its  first  appear- 
ance, the  poor  were  the  class  of  men  among  whom  the 
new  doctrine  was  likely  to  be,  and  actually  was,  in  the 
first  instance,  the  most  efficacious.  The  riches  of  the 
world,  and  the  gratifications  they  afford,  are  too  apt, 
when  their  evil  tendency  is  not  opposed  by  a  principle  of 
religion,  to  beget  that  friendship  for  the  world  which  is 
enmity  with  God.  The  poor,  on  the  other  hand,  ex- 
cluded from  the  hope  of  worldly  pleasure,  were  likely 
to  listen  with  the  more  attention  to  the  promise  of  a 
distant  happiness ;  and,  exposed  to  much  actual  suffering 
here,  they  would  naturally  be  the  most  alarmed  with  the 
apprehension  of  continued  and  increased  suffering  in 
another  world.  For  this  third  reason,  the  gospel,  upon 
its  first  publication,  was  emphatically  "  glad  tidings  to 
the  poor." 

From  these  three  considerations,  that  the  gospel,  in 
the  matter,  in  the  manner  of  the  discovery,  and  in  its 
relation  to  the  state  of  mankind  at  the  time  of  its  publi- 
cation, was  in  fact  in  a  peculiar  sense  "  glad  tidings  to 
the  poor,"  the  conclusion  seems  just  and  inevitable,  that, 
in  my  text,  and  in  other  passages  of  a  like  purport,  the 
prophets  describe  the  poor,  in  the  literal  acceptation  of 
the  word,  as  especial  objects  of  the  Divine  mercy  in  the 
Christian  dispensation.  And  this  sense  of  such  pro- 
phecies, which  so  much  claims  the  attention  both  of  rich 
and  poor,  receives  a  farther  confirmation  from  our  Lord's 
appeal  to  his  open  practice  of  preaching  to  the  poor,  as 
an  evidence  to  his  contemporaries  of  his  divine  mission. 
*'  Go  ye,"  he  said  to  the  Baptist's  messengers,  "  and 
show  John  again  those  things  which  ye  do  hear  and 
see :  The  blind  receive  their  sight,  and  the  lame  walk ; 
the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear;  the  dead  are 
raised  up,  and  the  POOR  HAVE  the  gospel  preached 
TO  them."  Here  "  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  to  the 
poor,"  is  mentioned  by  our  Lord  among  the  circum- 


(     113    ) 

stances  of  his  ministry,  which  so  evidently  corresponded 
with  the  prophecies  of  the  Messiah  as  to  render  any 
more  exphcit  answer  to  the  Baptist's  inquiries  unneces- 
sary. This,  therefore,  must  be  a  preaching  of  the  gos- 
pel to  the  poor  literally ;  for  the  preaching  of  it  to  the 
figurative  poor,  the  poor  in  religious  knowledge,  to  the 
heathen  world,  commenced  not  during  our  Lord's  life 
on  earth,  and  could  not  be  alleged  by  him,  at  that  time, 
among  his  own  personal  exhibitions  of  the  prophetical 
characters  of  the  Messiah  of  the  Jews. 

Assuredly,  therefore,  our  Lord  came  "  to  preach  glad 
tidings  to  the  poor."  "  To  preach  glad  tidings  to  the 
poor,"  was  mentioned  by  the  prophets  as  one  of  the 
especial  objects  of  his  coming.  To  preach  to  them  he 
clothed  himself  with  flesh,  and  in  his  human  nature  re- 
ceived the  unction  of  the  Spirit.  And  since  the  exam- 
ple of  our  Lord  is,  in  every  particular  in  which  it  is  at 
all  imitable,  a  rule  to  our  conduct,  it  is  clearly  our  duty, 
as  the  humble  followers  of  our  merciful  Lord,  to  enter- 
tain a  special  regard  for  the  religious  interests  of  the 
poor,  and  to  take  care,  what  we  can,  that  the  gospel  be 
still  preached  to  them.  And  the  most  effectual  means 
of  preaching  the  gospel  to  the  poor,  is  by  charitable  pro- 
visions for  the  religious  education  of  their  children. 

Blessed  be  God,  institutions  for  this  pious  purpose 
abound  in  most  parts  of  the  kingdom.  The  authority  of 
our  Lord's  example,  of  preaching  to  the  poor,  will,  with 
every  serious  believer,  outweigh  the  objection  which 
hath  been  raised  against  these  charitable  institutions,  by 
a  mean  and  dastardly  policy  imbibed  in  foreign  climes, 
not  less  unchristian  than  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  ge- 
nuine feelings  of  the  home-bred  Briton, — a  policy  winch 
pretends  to  foresee,  that  by  the  advantages  of  a  religious 
education,  the  poor  may  be  raised  above  the  laborious 
duties  of  his  station,  and  his  use  in  civil  life  be  lost. 
Our  Lord  and  his  npostles  better  understood  the  interest? 
16 


I     iU    ) 

of  bocifty,  and  ^\  lic  more  tender  of  its  security  and 
peace,  than  many,  perhaps,  of  our  modern  theorists. 
Our  Lord  and  his  apostles  certainly  never  saw  this  dan- 
ger, that  the  improvement  of  the  poor  in  religious  know- 
ledge might  be  a  means  of  confounding  civil  subordina- 
tion. They  were  ne\'er  apprehensive  that  the  poor  would 
be  made  the  \^'orse  servants  by  an  education  which  should 
teach  them  to  serve  their  masters  upon  earth,  from  a 
principle  of  duty  to  the  great  Master  of  the  whole  family 
in  heaven.  These  mean  suggestions  of  a  wicked  policy 
are  indeed  contradicted  by  the  experience  of  mankind. 
The  extreme  condition  of  oppression  and  debasement — 
the  unnatural  condition  of  slavery,  produced,  in  ancient 
times,  its  poets,  philosophers,  and  moralists.  Imagine 
not  that  I  would  teach  you  to  infer  that  the  condition  of 
slavery  is  not  adverse  to  the  improvement  of  the  human 
character.  Its  natural  tendency  is  certainly  to  fetter  the 
genius  and  debase  the  heart :  but  some  brave  spirits,  of 
uncommon  strength,  have  at  different  times  surmounted 
the  disadvantages  of  that  dismal  situation.  And  the  fact 
which  I  would  offer  to  your  attention  is  this,  that  these 
men,  eminent  in  taste  and  literature,  were  not  rendered 
by  those  accomplishments  the  less  profitable  slaves. 
Where,  then,  is  the  danger,  that  the  free-born  poor  of 
this  country  should  be  tlic<  worse  hired  servants,  for  a 
proficiency  in  a  knowledge  by  \vhich  l^oth  master  and 
^;ervant  are  taught  their  respective  duties,  by  which 
alone  either  rich  or  poor  may  be  made  wise  unto  sal- 
vation? 

iMucli  serious  consideration  would  indeed  be  due  to 
the  objection,  were  it  the  object,  or  the  ordinary  and 
probable  effect  of  tlicse.  cliaritable  seminaries  for  the 
maintenance  and  education  of  tlie  infant  poor,  to  qualify 
lliem  for  the  occupations  and  pursuits  of  the  higher 
ranks  of  society,  or  to  give  them  a  relish  for  their  plea- 
sures and  amusements.    But  this  is  not  the  case.    No- 


(     115    ) 

ihing  more  is  attempted,  nor  can  more  indeed  be  done, 
than  to  give  them  that  instruction  in  the  doctrines  and 
duties  of  religion,  to  which  a  claim  of  common  right  is 
in  some  sort  constituted  in  a  Christian  country,  by  the 
mere  capacity  to  profit  by  it,  and  to  furnish  them  with 
those  first  rudiments  of  what  may  be  called  the  trivial 
literature  of  their  mother  tongue,  without  which  thej-^ 
would  scarce  be  qualified  to  be  subjects  even  of  the 
lowest  class  of  the  free  government  under  which  they 
are  born, — a  government  in  which  the  meanest  citizen — 
the  very  mendicant  at  your  doors,  unless  his  life  or  his 
franchises  have  been  forfeited  by  crime  to  public  justice, 
hath  his  birthrights,  and  is  entrusted  with  a  considerable 
share  of  the  management  of  himself.  It  is  the  peculia- 
rity,— and  this  peculiarity  is  the  principal  excellence  of 
such  governments, — that  as  the  great  have  no  property  in 
the  labour  of  the  poor,  other  than  what  is  acquired  for  a 
time  by  a  mutual  agreement,  the  poor  man,  on  the  other 
hand,  hath  no  claim  upon  his  superior  for  support  and 
maintenance,  except  under  some  particular  covenant,  as 
an  apprentice,  a  journeyman,  a  menial  servant,  or  a  la- 
bourer, which  entides  him  to  the  recompense  of  his 
stipulated  service,  and  to  nothing  else.  It  follows,  that, 
In  such  states,  every  man  is  to  derive  a  support  for  him- 
self and  his  family,  from  the  voluntary  exertions  of  his 
own  industry,  under  the  direction  of  his  own  genius,  his 
own  prudence,  and  his  own  conscience.  Hence,  in 
these  free  governments,  some  considerable  improvement 
of  the  understanding  is  necessary  even  for  the  lowest  or- 
ders of  the  people ;  and  much  strength  of  religious  prin- 
ciple is  requisite  to  govern  the  individual,  in  those  com- 
mon concerns  of  his  private  life,  in  which  the  laws  leave 
the  meanest  subject,  equally  with  his  betters,  master  of 
himself.  Despotism, — sincere,  unalloyed,  rigid  despot- 
ism, is  the  only  form  of  government  which  may  with 
safety  to  itself  neglect  the  education  of  its  infant  poor^ 


(    116    ) 

Where  it  is  the  principle  of  government  that  the  cotii- 
mon  people  are  to  be  ruled  as  mere  aiiini:ils,  it  might 
indeed  be  iiapoUtic  to  suffer  them  to  acquire  the  moral 
discernment  '.iid  the  spontaneity  of  man:  but  in  free 
states,  whether  monarchical,  or  of  whatever  form,  the 
case  is  exacdy  the  reverse.  The  schemes  of  Providence 
and  Nature  are  too  deeply  laid  to  be  overthrown  by 
man's  impolicy.  It  is  contrary  to  the  order  of  Nature, 
— it  is  repugnant  to  the  decrees  of  Providence,  and 
therefore  the  thing  shall  never  be,  that  civil  liberty 
should  long  maintain  its  ground  among  any  people  dis- 
qualified by  ignorance  and  profligacy  for  the  use  and  en- 
joyment of  it.  Hence  the  greatest  danger  threatens 
every  free  constitution,  when,  by  a  neglect  of  a  due  cul- 
ture of  the  infant  mind,  barbarism  and  irreligion  are 
suffered  to  overrun  the  lower  orders.  The  barriers 
which  civilized  manners  naturally  oppose  against  the  en- 
croachments of  power,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  exor- 
bitance of  licentiousness,  on  the  other,  will  soon  be 
borne  down ;  and  the  government  will  degenerate  either 
into  an  absolute  despotic  monarchy,  or,  what  a  subsist- 
ing example  proves  to  be  by  infinite  degrees  a  heavier 
curse,  the  capricious  domination  of  an  unprincipled  rab- 
ble. Thus  would  ignorance  and  irreligion,  were  they 
once  to  prevail  generally  in  the  lower  ranks  of  society, 
necessarily  terminate  in  one  or  the  other  of  these  two 
dreadful  evils, — the  dissolution  of  all  government,  or 
the  enslaving  of  the  majority  of  mankind :  while  true 
religion,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  best  support  of  every 
government,  which,  being  founded  on  just  principles, 
proposes  for  its  end  the  joint  advancement  of  the  virtue 
and  the  happiness  of  the  people ;  and  by  necessary  con- 
sequence, co-operates  with  religion  in  the  two  great  pur- 
poses of  exalting  the  general  character,  and  of  bettering 
the  general  condition  of  man.  Of  eveiy  such  govern- 
ment, Christianity,  by  consent  and  concurrence  in  n 


(    117    ) 

'common  end,  is  the  natural  friend  and  ally ;  at  tlie  same 
time  that,  by  its  silent  influence  on  the  hearts  of  men, 
it  affords  the  best  security  for  the  permanence  of  that 
degree  of  orderly  definite  liberty  which  is  an.  essential 
principle  in  every  such  constitution.  The  Christian  re- 
ligion fosters  and  protects  such  liberty,  not  by  support- 
ing the  absurd  and  pernicious  doctrine  of  the  natural 
equality  of  men, — not  by  asserting  that  sovereignty  is 
originally  in  the  multitude,  and  that  kings  are  the  ser- 
vants of  their  people, — not  by  releasing  the  conscience 
of  the  subject  from  the  obligations  of  loyalty,  in  every 
supposed  case  of  the  sovereign's  misconduct,  and  main- 
taining what,  in  the  new  vocabulary  of  modern  demo- 
cracy, is  named  the  sacred  right  of  insurrection, — not  by 
all,  or  by  any  of  these  detestable  maxims,  Christianity 
supports  that  rational  liberty  which  she  approves  and 
cherishes;  but  by  planting  in  the  breast  of  the  individual 
powerful  principles  of  self-government,  which  render 
greater  degrees  of  civil  freedom  consistent  with  the  pub- 
lic safety. 

The  patrons,  therefore,  of  these  beneficent  institutions 
in  which  the  children  of  the  poor  are  trained  in  the  nur- 
ture and  admonition  of  the  Lord,  have  no  reason  to  ap- 
prehend  that  true  policy  will  disapprove  the  pious  work 
\vhich  charity  hath  suggested.  Thousands  of  childien 
of  both  sexes,  annually  rescued  by  means  of  these  cha- 
ritable seminaries  in  various  parts  of  the  kingdom,  from 
beggary,  ignorance,  and  vice,  are  gained  as  useful  citi- 
zens to  the  state,  at  the  same  time  that  they  are  preserved 
as  sheep  of  Christ's  fold.  Fear  not,  therefore,  to  indulge 
the  feelings  of  benevolence  and  charity  which  this  day's 
spectacle  awakens  in  your  bosoms. 

It  is  no  weakness  to  sympathize  in  the  real  hardships 
of  the  inferior  orders :  it  is  no  weakness  to  be  touched 
with  an  anxiety  for  their  welfare, — to  feel  a  complacency 
and  holy  joy  in  the  reflection,  that,  by  the  well-directed 


(     118     } 

exertions  of  a  godly  charity,  their  interests,  secular  and 
eternal,  are  secured:  it  is  no  weakness  to  rejoice,  that, 
without  breaking  the  order  of  society,  religion  can  re- 
lieve  the  condition  of  poverty  from  the  greatest  of  its 
evils,  from  ignorance  and  vice :  it  is  no  weakness  to  be 
liberal  of  your  worldly  treasures,  in  contribution  to  so 
good  a  purpose.  The  angels  in  heaven  participate  these 
holy  feelings.  Our  Father  which  is  in  heaven  accepts 
and  will  reward  the  work,  provided  it  be  well  done, 
in  the  true  spirit  of  faith  and  charity ;  for  of  such  as 
these — as  these  who  stand  before  you,  arrayed  in  the 
simplicity  and  innocence  of  childhood,  in  the  humility 
of  poverty, — of  such  as  these,  it  was  our  Lord's  ex- 
press and  solemn  declaration,  "  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  God!" 


SERMON    X. 


Mark  vii.  37. 


J?id  theij  -were  beyond  measure  astonished,  saying.  He 
fmth  done  all  t/migs  xvell;  he  maketh  both  the  deaf  to^ 
hear  and  the  dumb  to  speak.^ 

It  is  matter  of  much  curiosity,  and  affording  no  small 
edification,  if  the  speculation  be  properly  pursued,  to 
observe  the  very  different  manner  in  which  the  various 
spectators  of  our  Lord's  miracles  were  affected  by  what 
they  saw,  according  to  their  different  dispositions. 

We  read,  in  St.  Luke,  that  our  Lord  "  was  casting 
out  a  devil,  and  it  was  dumb ;  and  it  came  to  pass,  that 
when  the  devil  was  gone  out,  the  dumb  spake^'  and 
the  populace  that  were  witnesses  of  the  miracle  "  won- 
dered." They  wondered,  and  there  was  an  end  of  their 
speculations  upon  the  business.  They  made  no  farther 
inquirj^  and  their  thoughts  led  them  to  no  farther  con- 
clusion than  that  the  thing  was  very  strange.  These 
seem  to  have  been  people  of  that  stupid  sort,  which 
abounds  too  much  in  all  ranks  of  society,  whose  notice 
is  attracted  by  things  that  come  to  pass,  not  according  to 
the  difficulty  of  accounting  for  them,— a  concern  which 
never  breaks  their  slumbers, — but  according  as  they  are 
more  or  less  frequent.  They  are  neither  excited,  by 
any  scientific  curiosity,  to  inquire  after  the  established 

'  Preafthed  for  tbe  Deaf  nnd  Dumb  Asyl-im,  1708. 


{'     120    ) 

causes  of  the  most  common  things,  nor,  by  any  pious 
regard  to  God's  providential  government  of  the  world, 
to  inquire  after  him  in  the  most  uncommon.  Day  and 
night  succeed  each  other  in  constant  vicissitude;  the 
seasons  hold  their  unvaried  course ;  the  sun  makes  his 
annual  journey  through  the  same  regions  of  the  sky ;  the 
moon  runs  the  circle  of  lier  monthly  changes,  with  a 
motion  ever  varying,  yet  subject  to  one  constant  law  and 
limit  of  its  variations;  the  tides  of  the  ocean  ebb  and 
flow ;  heavy  waters  are  suspended  at  a  great  height  in 
the  thinner  fluid  of  the  air, — they  are  collected  in  clouds, 
which  overspread  the  summer's  sky,  and  descend  in 
showers  to  refresh  the  verdure  of  the  earth, — or  they 
are  driven  by  strong  gales  to  the  bleak  regions  of  the 
north,  whence  the  wintry  winds  return  them  to  these 
milder  climates,  to  fall  lightl3^upon  the  tender  blade  in 
flakes  of  snow,  and  form  a  mantle  to  shelter  the  hope  of 
the  husbandman  from  the  nipping  frost.  These  things 
are  hardly  noticed  by  the  sort  of  people  who  are  now 
beforc  us  :  llicy  excite  not  even  their  wonder,  though  in 
tlieniselves  most  wonderful ;  much  less  do  they  awaken 
them  to  inquire  by  \vhat  mechanism  of  the  universe,  a 
system  so  complex  in  its  motions  and  vicissitudes,  and 
yet  so  regular  and  orderly  in  its  complications,  is  carried 
on.  They  say  to  themselves,  "  These  are  the  common 
occurrences  of  nature,"  and  they  are  satisfied.  These 
lianis  sort  of  people,  if  they  see  a  blind  man  restored  to 
sight,  or  the  deaf  and  dumb  suddenly  endued,  without 
the  use  of  physical  means,  with  the  faculties  of  hearing 
and  of  speech,  wonder, — /.  e.  they  say  to  themselves, 
"  It  is  uncommon," — and  they  concern  themselves  nc; 
il^rther.  I'hese  people  discover  God  neither  in  the  still 
voice  of  nature,  nor  in  the  sudden  blaze  of  miracle. 
They  seem  hardly  to  come  within  that  definition  of  man 
which  was  given  by  some  of  the  ancient  philosophers, — 
flat  he  is  an  animal  which  contemplates  tlie  objects  of  its 


(     121     > 

senses.  They  contemplate  nothing.  Two  sentences^ 
"  It  is  very  common,"  or,  "  It  is  very  strange,"  make 
at  once  the  sum  and  the  detail  of  their  philosophy  and 
of  their  belief,  and  are  to  them  a  solution  of  all  difficul- 
ties. They  wonder  for  a  while  ;  but  they  presently  dis- 
miss the  subject  of  their  wonder  from  their  thoughts. 
Wonder,  connected  with  a  principle  of  rational  curiosity, 
is  the  source  of  all  knowledge  and  discovery,  and  it  is  a 
principle  even  of  piety  ;  but  wonder  which  ends  in  won- 
der, and  is  satisfied  with  wondering,  is  the  quality  of  an 
idiot. 

This  stupidity,  so  common  in  all  ranks  of  men, — for 
what  I  now  describe  is  no  peculiarity  of  those  who  ore 
ordinarily  called  the  vulgar  and  illiterate, — this  stupidity 
is  not  natural  to  man  :  it  is  the  effect  of  an  over- solici- 
tude about  the  low  concerns  of  the  present  world,  which 
alienates  the  mind  from  objects  most  worthy  its  atten- 
tion, and  keeps  its  noble  faculties  employed  on  things 
©f  an  inferior  sort,  drawing  tliem  aside  from  all  inquiries, 
except  what  may  be  the  speediest  means  to  increase  a 
man's  wealth  and  advance  his  worldly  interests. 

When  the  stupidity  arising  from  this  attachment  to 
the  world  is  connected,  as  sometimes  it  is,  with  a  prin- 
ciple of  positive  infidelity,  or,  w-hich  is  much  the  same 
thing,  with  an  entire  negligence  and  practical  forgetful- 
ness  of  God,  it  makes  the  man  a  perfect  savage.  When 
this  is  not  the  case, — when  this  stupid  indifference  to 
the  causes  of  the  ordinary  and  extraordinary  occurrences 
of  the  world,  and  something  of  a  general  belief  in  God's 
providence,  meet,  as  they  often  do,  in  the  same  charac- 
ter, it  is  a  circumstance  of  great  danger  to  the  man's 
spiritual  state,  because  it  exposes  him  to  be  the  easy 
prey  of  every  impostor.  The  religion  of  such  persons 
has  always  a  great  tendency  towards  superstition;  for, 
as  their  uainquisitive  temper  keeps  them  in  a  total  igno- 
rance about  secondiiry  causes,  they  are  apt  to  refer  every 
17 


(     122    ) 

thing  which  is  out  of  what  they  call  the  common  course 
of  nature, — that  is,  which  is  out  of  the  course  of  their 
own  daily  observation  and  experience, — to  an  immediate 
exertion  of  the  power  of  God ;  and  thus  the  common 
sleight-of-hand  tricks  of  any  vagabond  conjurer  may  be 
passed  off  upon  such  people  for  real  miracles.  Such 
persons  as  these  ^vere  they,  who,  when  they  saw  a  dumb 
daemoniac  endued  with  speech  by  our  Lord,  were  con- 
tent to  wonder  at  it. 

The  Pharisees,  however,  a  set  of  men  improved  in 
their  understandings,  but  wretchedly  hardened  in  their 
hearts,  were  not  without  some  jealousy  even  of  this 
stupid  wonderment.  They  knew  that  the  natural  effect 
of  wonder,  if  it  rested  on  the  mind,  would  be  inquiry 
after  a  cause ;  and  they  dreaded  the  conclusions  to  which 
inquiry  in  this  case  might  lead.  They  would  not,  there- 
fore, trust  these  people,  as  perhaps  they  might  have  done 
Avith  perfect  security,  to  their  own  stupidity ;  but  they 
suggested  a  principle  to  stop  inquiry.  They  told  the 
people,  that  our  Lord  cast  out  devils  by  the  aid  and  as- 
sistance of  Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  the  devils.  This 
extraordinaiy  suggestion  of  the  Pharisees  will  come  un- 
der consideration  in  its  proper  place. 

We  read  again,  in  St.  Matthew,  that  our  Lord,  upon  an- 
other occasion,  restored  a  dumb  daemoniac  to  his  speech ; 
and  the  multitude  assembled  upon  this  occasion  mar- 
velled, saying,  "  It  was  never  so  seen  in  Israel."  These 
people  came  some  small  matter  nearer  to  the  ancient  de- 
finition of  man,  than  the  wondering  blockheads  in  St. 
Luke,  who  had  been  spectators  of  the  former  miracle. 
They  not  only  wondered,  but  they  bestowed  some 
thought  upon  the  subject  of  their  wonder ;  and  in  their 
reasonings  upon  it  they  went  some  little  \vay.  They  re- 
collected the  miracles,  recorded  in  their  sacred  booksj 
of  Moses  and  some  of  the  ancient  prophets :  they  com- 
pared this  performance  of  our  Lord  v/itli  those,  and 


(     123    } 

perhaps  with  things  that  they  had  seen  done  in  their  own 
times  by  professed  exorcisers;  and  the  comparison 
brought  them  to  this  conchision,  that  "  it  was  never  so 
seen  in  Israel," — that  our  Lord's  miracle  surpassed  any 
thing  that  ever  had  been  seen  even  in  that  people  which 
was  under  the  immediate  and  peculiar  govcrnmejit  oF 
God,  and  among  whom  cxtraoidin;uy  interpositions  of 
power  had,  for  that  reason,  been  not  unfreqiient.  They 
seem,  however,  to  have  stopped  short  attliis  conclusion. 
They  proceeded  not  to  the  obvious  consequence,  that 
this  worker  of  greater  miracles  was  a  greater  personage, 
and  of  higher  authority  than  Moses  and  the  prophets. 
The  Pharisees,  however,  as  might  be  expected,  again 
took  alarm,  and,  to  stifle  inquiry,  had  recourse  to  their 
former  solution  of  the  wonder,  that  our  Lord  cast  out 
devils  by  Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  the  devils. 

Upon  a  third  occasion,  as  we  read  again  in  this  same 
evangelist,  St.  Matthew,  a  person  was  brought  to  our 
Lord,  '*  possessed  with  a  devil,  and  blind  and  dumb." 
Our  Lord  healed  him,  "  insomuch  that  the  blind  and 
dumb  both  spake  and  saw."  The  populace,  upon  this 
occasion,  were  amazed.  But  they  were  not  only  amazed, 
— they  said  not  only  that  it  never  was  so  seen  in  Israel, 
but  they  went  much  farther ;  they  said,  "  Is  not  this  the 
son  of  David?"  Of  these  people,  we  may  assert  that 
they  were  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God.  They 
looked  for  the  redemption  of  Israel  by  a  son  of  David  : 
they  believed,  therefore,  in  God's  promises  by  his  pro- 
phets; and  they  entertained  a  suspicion,  though  it  ap- 
pears not  that  they  went  {\\rther,  that  this  might  probably 
be  the  expected  son  of  David.  The  alarm  of  tlie  Pha- 
risees was  increased,  and  they  had  recourse:  to  their 
former  suggestion. 

The  manner  in  which  these  people  treated  the  miracles 
which  were  done  under  their  eyes,  comes  now  under 
consideration. 


(     l24     > 

They  were  impressed  with  wonder,  it  seems,  no  less 
than  the  common  people;  but  their  wonder  was  con- 
nected with  tlie  pretence  at  least  of  philosophical  disqui- 
sition upon  the  phaenomena  which  excited  it.  They 
admitted  that  the  things  done,  in  eveiy  one  of  these  in- 
stances, were  beyond  the  natural  powers  of  man,  and 
must  be  referred  to  the  extraordinary  agency  of  some 
superior  being ;  but  they  contended,  that  there  was  no 
necessity  to  recur  to  an  immediate  exertion  of  God's 
own  power, — that  the  power  of  the  chief  of  the  rebelli- 
ous spirits  was  adequate  to  the  effect. 

This  suggestion  of  the  Pharisees  proceeded  upon  an 
assumption,  which,  considered  generally,  and  in  the  ab- 
stract, without  an  application  to  any  specific  case,  cannot 
be  denied:  they  supposed  that  beings  superior  to  man, 
but  still  created  beings,  whose  powers  fell  short  of  the 
Divine,  might  possess  that  degree  of  power  over  many 
parts  of  the  universe  which  might  be  adequate  to  effects 
quite  out  of  the  common  course  of  nature ;  and  that,  by 
a  familiarity  with  some  of  these  superior  beings,  a  man 
might  perform  miracles. 

Some  of  the  philosophizing  divines  of  later  times,  who, 
under  the  mask  of  zeal  for  religion,  have  done  it  more 
disservice  than  its  open  enemies, — some  of  these,  anxi- 
ous, as  they  would  pretend,  for  the  credit  of  our  Lord's 
miracles,  and  for  the  general  evidence  of  miracles,  have 
gone  the  length  of  an  absolute  denial  of  these  principles, 
and  have  ventured  to  assert,  that  nothing  preternatural 
can  happen  in  the  world  but  by  an  immediate  act  of 
God's  own  power.  The  assertion  in  itself  is  absurd,  and 
in  its  consequences  dangerous ;  and  nothing  is  to  be 
found  in  reason  or  in  Scripture  for  its  support, — much 
for  its  confutation.  Analogy  is  the  only  ground  upon 
which  reason,  in  this  question,  can  proceed;  and  analogy 
decides  for  the  truth  of  the  general  principle  of  the  Pha- 
risees.   Not,  certainly,  in  their  application  of  it  to  the 


.(     125    ) 

specific  case  of  our  Lord's  miracles, — but  for  the  trutb 
of  their  general  principle,  that  subordinate  beings  may 
be  the  immediate  agents  in  many  preternatural  effects, 
analogy  is  clearly  on  their  side.  It  is  a  matter  of  fact 
and  daily  experience,  that  mere  man,  in  addition  to  the 
natural  dominion  of  the  mind  of  every  individual  over 
the  body  which  he  animates,  has  acquired  an  empire  of 
no  small  extent  over  the  matter  of  the  external  vvorld- 
By  optical  machines,  vi^e  can  look  into  the  celestial  bo- 
dies with  more  accuracy  and  precision  than  with  the 
naked  eye  we  can  look  from  an  eminence  into  a  city  at  the 
distance  of  a  few  miles ;  we  can  form  a  judgment  of  the 
materials  of  which  they  are  composed ;  we  can  measure 
their  distances ;  we  can  assign  the  quantity  of  matter  they 
severally  contain, — the  density  of  the  matter  of  which 
they  are  made ;  we  can  estimate  their  mechanical  powers ; 
we  know  the  weight  of  a  given  quantity  of  matter  on 
the  surface  of  the  sun,  as  well  as  we  know  its  weight 
upon  the  surface  of  the  earth :  we  can  break  the  com- 
pound light  of  day  into  the  constituent  parts  of  which  it 
is  composed.  But  this  is  not  all :  our  acquired  pov.er 
goes  to  practical  effects.  We  press  the  elements  into 
our  service,  and  can  direct  the  general  principles  of  the 
mechanism  of  the  universe  to  the  purposes  of  man ;  we 
can  employ  the  buoyancy  of  the  waters  and  the  power 
of  the  winds  to  navigate  vast  unwieldy  vessels  to  the 
remotest  regions  of  the  globe,  for  the  purposes  of  com- 
merce or  of  Avar ;  and  we  animate  an  iron  pin,  turning 
on  a  pivot,  to  direct  the  course  of  the  mariner  to  his  des- 
tined port ;  we  can  kindle  a  lire  by  the  rays  of  the  sun, 
collected  in  the  focus  of  a  burning-glass,  and  produce 
a  heat  which  subdues  that  stubborn  metal  which  defies 
the  chemist's  furnace  ;  we  can  avert  the  stroke  of  light- 
ning from  our  buildings.  These  are  obvious  instances 
of  rau'.i's  acquired  power  over  the  natural  elements, — a 
power  which  produces  effects  which  might  seem  preter- 


(     126    } 

natural  to  those  who  have  no  knowledge  of  the  meaiib. 
And  shall  we  say  that  beings  superior  to  man  may  not 
have  powers  of  a  more  considerable  extent,  which  they 
may  exercise  in  a  more  summary  way, — which  produce 
effects  far  more  wonderful,  such  as  shall  be  truly  mira- 
culous with  respect  to  our  conceptions,  who  have  no 
knowledge  of  their  means  ? 

Then,  for  Scripture,  it  is  very  explicit  in  asserting- 
the  existence  of  an  order  of  beings  far  superior  to  man ; 
and  it  gives  something  more  than  obscure  intimations, 
that  the  holy  angels  are  employed  upon  extraordinary 
occasions  in  the  affairs  of  men,  and  the  management  of 
this  sublunary  world. 

But  the  Pharisees  went  farther :  their  argume-nt  sup- 
posed  that  even  the  apostate  spirits  have  powers  adequate 
to  the  production  of  preternatural  effects.  And,  with 
respect  to  this  general  principle,  there  is  notliing  either 
in  reason  or  Scripture  to  confute  it. 

Reason  must  recur  again  to  analogy.  And  we  find 
not  that  the  powers  which  men  exercise  over  the  natural 
elements,  are  at  all  proportioned  to  the  different  degrees 
of  their  moral  goodness  or  their  religious  attainments. 
The  stoic  and  the  libertine,  the  sinner  and  the  saint,  are 
equally  adroit  in  the  application  of  the  telescope  and  the 
quadrant, — in  the  use  of  the  compass, — in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  sail,  the  rudder,  and  the  oar, — and  in  the 
exercise  of  the  electrical  machine.  Since,  then,  in  our 
own  order  of  being,  the  power  of  the  individual  over 
external  bodies  is  not  at  all  proportioned  to  his  piety  or 
bis  morals,  but  is  exercised  indiscriminately,  and  in 
equal  degrees,  by  the  good  and  by  the  bad,  we  have  no 
reason  from  analogy  to  suppose  but  that  the  like  indis- 
crimination  may  obtain  in  higher  orders,  and  that  both 
the  good  and  evil  angels  may  exercise  powers  far  trans- 
cending any  we  possess,  the  effects  of  which  to  us  will 
seem  preternatural:  for  diere  is  nothing  in  this  to  disturb 


i    127    } 

the  established  order  of  things,  since  these  powers  are, 
no  less  than  our  own,  subject  to  the  sovereign  control 
of  God,  who  makes  the  actions  of  evil  angels,  as  of  bad 
men,  subservient  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  own  will, 
and  will  not  suffer  the  effects  of  them  finally  to  thwart 
his  general  schemes  of  mercy. 

The  Scriptures,  again,  confirm  the  principle.  We 
read,  in  the  book  of  Exodus,  of  an  express  trial  of  skill, 
if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  between  Moses 
and  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  in  the  exercise  of  miracu- 
lous powers,  in  which  the  magicians  were  completely 
foiled, — not  because  their  feats  were  not  miraculous, 
but  because  their  power,  as  they  were  at  last  driven  to 
confess,  extended  not  to  those  things  which  Moses  did. 
They  performed  some  miracles ;  but  Moses  performed 
many  more  and  much  greater.  When  the  wands  of  the 
magicians  were  cast  upon  the  ground,  and  became  ser- 
pents, the  fact,  considered  in  itself,  was  as  much  a  mi- 
racle as  when  Aaron's  rod  was  cast  upon  the  ground  and 
became  a  serpent ;  for  it  was  as  much  a  miracle  that  one 
diy  stick  should  become  a  live  serpent  as  another. 
When  the  magicians  turned  the  water  into  blood,  we 
must  confess  it  was  miraculous,  or  we  must  deny  that 
it  was  a  miracle  when  Aaron  turned  the  water  into  blood- 
When  the  frogs  left  their  marshy  bed  to  croak  in  the 
chambers  of  the  king,  it  was  a  miracle,  ^vhether  the  frogs 
came  up  at  the  call  of  Moses  and  Aaron,  or  of  Jannes 
and  Jambres.  And  the  sacred  history  gives  not  the  least 
Intimation  of  any  imposture  in  these  performances  of  the 
magicians :  it  only  exhibits  the  circumstances  in  which 
Moses's  miracles  exceeded  those  of  the  magicians ;  and 
marks  the  point  where  the  power  of  the  magicians,  by 
their  own  confession,  stopped,  when  Moses's  went  on» 
as  it  should  seem,  without  limits.  Now,  whoever  will 
allov/  that  these  things  done  by  the  magicians  were  mi- 
raculous.— ?.  e.  beyond  tlie  natural  powers  of  man, — 


(     128    ) 

must  allow  that  they  were  done  by  some  familiarity  ot 
these  magicians  with  the  Devil :  for  they  were  done  in 
express  defiance  of  God's  power;  they  were  done  to 
discredit  his  messenger,  and  to  encourage  the  king  of 
Egypt  to  disregard  the  message. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  in  the  general  principle,  that  mi- 
racles may  be  wrought  by  the  aid  of  evil  spirits,  that  the 
weakness  lay  of  the  objection  made  by  the  Pharisees  to 
our  Lord's  miracles,  as  evidence  of  his  mission.  Our 
Lord  himself  called  not  this  general  principle  in  ques- 
tion, any  more  than  the  Avriters  of  the  Old  Testament 
call  in  question  the  reality  of  the  miracles  of  the  Egyp- 
tian magicians.  But  the  folly  of  their  objection  lay  in 
their  application  of  it  to  the  specific  instance  of  our 
Lord's  miracles,  which,  as  he  replied  to  them  at  the 
time,  were  works  no  less  diametrically  opposite  to  the 
Devil's  purposes,  and  the  interests  of  his  kingdom,  than 
the  feats  of  Pharaoh's  magicians,  or  any  other  wonders 
that  have  at  any  time  been  exhibited  by  wicked  men  in 
compact  Avith  the  Devil,  have  been  in  opposition  to  God. 
Our  Lord's  miracles,  in  the  immediate  effects  of  the  in- 
dividual acts,  were  works  of  charity :  they  were  works 
which,  in  the  immediate  effect  of  the  individual  acts, 
rescued  the,  bodies  of  miserable  men  from  that  tyranny, 
which  before  the  coming  of  our  Lord,  the  Devil  had 
been  permitted  to  exercise  over  them ;  and  the  general 
end  and  intention  of  them  all,  was  the  utter  demolition 
of  the  Devil's  kingdom,  and  the  establishment  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  upon  its  ruins.  And  to  suppose  that 
the  Devil  lent  his  own  power  for  the  furtherance  of  this 
work,  was,  as  our  Lord  justly  argued,  to  suppose  that 
the  Devil  was  waging  war  upon  himself. 

There  is,  however,  another  principle  upon  which  the 
truth  of  our  Lord's  miracles,  as  evidence  of  his  mission 
from  the  Father,  may  be  argued, — a  principle  which 
applies  to  our  Lord's  miracles  exclusively,  and  gives 


(     129    ) 

tiiem  a  degree  of  credit  beyond  any  miracles,  except  ha, 
own,  and  those  which  after  his  ascension  were  performed 
by  his  disciples,  in  his  name,  in  the  primitive  ages.  To 
this  principle  we  are  led,  by  considering  the  manner  in 
which  the  particular  miracle  to  which  my  text  relates  af- 
fected the  spectators  of  it,  who  seem  to  have  been  per- 
sons of  a  very  different  complexion  from  any  that  have 
yet  come  before  us. 

"  They  were  beyond  measure  astonished ;" — so  we 
read  in  our  English  Bibles ;  but  the  better  rendering  of 
the  Greek  words  of  the  evangelist  would  be,  "  They 
were  superabundantly  astonished,  saying,  He  hath  done 
all  things  well ;  he  maketh  both  the  deaf  to  hear  and  the 
dumb  to  speak." 

They  were  superabundantly  astonished; — not  that 
their  astonishment  was  out  of  proportion  to  the  extra, 
ordinary  nature  of  the  thing  they  had  seen,  as  if  the 
thing  was  less  extraordinary  than  they  thought  it ;  but 
their  astonishment  was  justly  carried  to  a  height  which 
lio  astonishment  could  exceed.  This  is  that  supera- 
bundant astonishment  which  the  evangelist  describes, 
not  taxing  it  with  extravagance.  It  v/as  not  the  astonish. 
ment  of  ignorance :  it  was  an  astonishment  upon  prin- 
ciple and  upon  knowledge.  It  was  not  the  astonishment 
of  those  who  saw  a  thing  done  which  they  thought  utterly 
unaccountable.  They  knew  how  to  account  for  it :  they 
knew  that  the  finger  ot  God  himself  was  the  efficient 
cause  of  what  they  saw ;  and  to  that  cause,  they,  with- 
out hesitation,  yet  not  hastily  and  in  surprise,  but  upon 
the  most  solid  principles  of  belief,  referred  it.  It  was 
not  the  astonishment  of  those  who  see  a  thing  done 
which  they  thought  would  never  come  to  pass :  it  was 
the  astonishment  of  those  who  find  a  hope  which  tliey 
had  entertained  of  something  very  extraordinary  to  be 
done,  satisfied  in  a  degree  equal  to  or  beyond  their  ut- 
most expectations:  it  was  the  astonishment  of  those 
38 


(     130    } 

who  3UVV  uii  exliaordinary  thing,  which  they  expected 
to  take  place  some  time  or  other,  but  knew  not  exactly 
Avhen,  accompHshed  in  their  own  times,  and  under  their 
own  inspection :  it  was  that  sort  of  astonishment  which 
any  of  us,  who  firmly  expect  the  second  coming  of  our 
Lord,  but  knowing  not  the  times  and  the  seasons,  which, 
the  Father  hath  put  in  his  own  power,  look  not  for  it  at 
any  definite  time, — it  was  that  sort  of  astonishment 
which  we  should  feci,  if  we  saw  the  sign  of  the  Son  of 
Man  tliis  moment  displayed  in  the  heavens :  for,  observe 
the  remark  of  these  people  upon  the  miracle,  "  He  hath 
done  all  things  well ;  he  maketh  both  the  deaf  to  hear 
and  the  dumb  to  speak."  To  have  done  a  thing  well, 
is  a  sort  of  commendation  which  we  bestow,  not  upon 
a  man  that  performs  some  extraordinary  feat,  which  we 
had  no  reason  to  expect  from  him,  but  upon  a  man 
who  executes  that  which  by  his  calling  and  profession 
it  is  his  proper  task  to  do,  in  the  manner  that  we  have 
a  right  to  expect  and  demand  of  him,  who  pretends 
and  professes  to  be  a  master  in  that  particular  business. 
This  is  the  praise  which  these  people  bestowed  upon 
our  Lord^s  performances.  "  He  hath  done  all  things 
.,vell;" — he  hath  done  every  thing  in  the  most  perfect 
manner  which  we  had  a  right  to  expect  that  he  should 
do,  who  should  come  to  us  assuming  the  character  of 
our  Messiah. 

The  ancient  prophecies  had  described  all  the  circum- 
stances  of  our  Saviour's  birth,  life,  and  death;  and, 
with  other  circumstances,  had  distinctly  specified  the 
iiort  of  miracles  which  he  should  perform.  This  is  the 
circumstance  which,  I  say,  is  peculiar  to  our  Lord'fc 
miracies,  and  puts  the  evidence  of  them  beyond  all 
doubt,  and  supersedes  the  necessity  of  all  disputation 
concerning  the  general  evidence  of  miracles.  Our  Lord,, 
and  of  all  persons  who  have  ever  appeared  in  the  world, 
pretending  to  work  miracles,  or  really  \vorking  miracle*? 


(     131     } 

ii\  proof  of  a  divine  mission,  our  Lord  alone,  could  ap- 
peal to  a  body  of  recorded  prophecy,  delivered  many 
hundred  years  before  he  came  into  the  world,  and  say, 
"  In  these  ancient  oracles  it  is  predicted  that  the  Mes> 
siah,  appearing  among  you  at  a  time  defined  by  certain 
signs  and  characters,  shall  be  known  by  his  performing 
— not  miracles  gtnerdWy— but  such  a?id  such  specific  mi- 
racks.  At  a  time  distinguished  by  those  signs  and  cha- 
racters, /  come ;  those  specific  works  /  do ;  and  /  ex- 
hibit the  character  of  the  Messiah,  delineated  in  those 
prophecies,  in  all  its  circumstances." 

It  is  remarkable,  that  our  Lord,  in  reply  to  the  Pha- 
risees, condescended  not  to  resort  to  this  summary  and 
overbearing  proof.  But  he  answered  their  objection  by 
an  argument,  just  indeed,  and  irresistibly  conclusive, 
but  of  more  refinement.  This,  I  conceive,  was  in  re- 
sentment of  the  insincerity  of  these  uncandid  adversaries, 
It  is  indisputable,  from  many  circumstances  in  the  gos- 
pel history,  that  the  Pharisees  knew  our  Lord  to  be  the 
Messiah ;  and  yet  they  were  carried,  by  motives  of 
worldly  interest,  to  disown  him, — rjust  as  Judas  knew 
him  to  be  the  Messiah,  and  yet  he  was  carried,  by 
motives  of  worldly  interest,  to  betray  him.  Thus,  dis- 
owning the  Messiah,  whom  they  knew,  they  were  de- 
liberate apostates  from  their  God ;  and  they  were  treated 
as  they  deserved,  when  our  Lord  rather  e^^ posed  the 
futility  of  their  own  arguments  against  him,  than  vouch- 
safed to  offer  that  sort  of  evidence,  which,  to  anj^  that 
were  not  obstinate  in  wilful  error,  must  have  been  irre- 
sistible, and  which  had  indeed  to  the  godly  multitude 
offered  itself.  But  when  John  tlie  Baptist  sent  his  dis- 
ciples to  inquire  of  Jesus  if  lie  v.as  the  person  who  was 
to  come,  or  whether  they  were  to  look  for  another  (they 
were  sent,  you  will  observe,  for  their  own  conviction, 
not  for  John's  satisfiiction ;  for  he  at  this  time  could 
have  no  doubt),  our  Lord  was  plea^)ed  to  deal  with  tliem 


(     132    ) 

ill  a  very  different  manner.  He  made  them  eye-witnesses 
of  many  of  those  miracles  which  were  a  Hteral  comple- 
tion of  the  prophecies,  and  bade  them  go  back  and  tell 
John  what  they  had  heard  and  seen.  "  Go  and  tell  your 
master  that  you  have  seen  me  restore  the  paralytic; 
you  have  seen  me  cleanse  the  leper,  cure  the  lame, 
the  blind,  the  deaf,  and  the  dumb;  you  have  seen  me 
liberate  the  possessed;  you  have  seen  me  raise  the  dead; 
and  you  have  heard  me  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor. 
He  will  connect  these  things  with  the  prophecies  that 
have  gone  before  concerning  me;  he  will  tell  you  what 
conclusion  you  must  draw,  and  set  before  you  the 
danger  which  threatens  those  who  are  scandalized  in 
me." 

I  must  now  turn  from  this  general  subject,  nor  farther 
pursue  the  interesting  meditations  which  it  might  sug- 
gest, in  order  to  apply  the  whole  to  the  particular  occa- 
sion which  has  brought  me  hither. 

You  will  recollect,  that  the  miracles  which  are  speci- 
fied in  the  prophecies  as  works  that  should  characterize 
the  Messiah  when  he  should  appear,  were  in  great  part 
the  cure  of  diseases,  by  natural  means  the  most  difficult 
of  cure,  and  the  relief  of  natural  imperfections  and  in- 
abilities. In  such  works  our  Lord  himself  delighted ; 
and  the  miraculous  powers,  so  long  as  they  subsisted  in 
the  church,  were  exercised  by  the  first  disciples  chiefly 
in  acts  of  mercy  of  the  same  kind.  Now  that  the 
miraculous  powers  are  withdrawn,  we  act  in  conformity 
to  the  spirit  of  our  holy  religion,  and  to  our  Lord's  own 
example,  when  we  endeavour  what  we  can  to  extend 
relief,  l^y  such  natural  means  as  are  within  our  power, 
to  the  like  instances  of  distress.  It  was  prophesied  of 
our  Lord,  that  when  he  should  come  to  save  those  that 
were  of  a  fearful  heart,  "  tlie  eyes  of  the  blind  should 
be  opened,  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  should  be  unstop- 
ped ;  that  the  lame  man  should  leap  as  the  hart,  ;ind  the 


(     133    ) 

tongue  of  the  dumb  should  sing."  All  this,  and  mucU 
more,  he  verified.  Of  all  natural  imperfections,  the 
want  of  speech  and  hearing  seem  the  most  deplorable,  as 
they  are  those  which  most  exclude  the  unhappy  sufferer 
from  society, — from  all  the  enjoyments  of  the  present 
world,  and,  it  is  to  be  feared,  from  a  right  apprehension 
of  his  interests  in  the  next.  The  cure  of  the  deaf  and 
the  dumb  is  particularly  mentioned  in  the  prophecies, 
among  the  works  of  mercy  the  most  characteristic  of 
man's  great  deliverer:  and,  accordingly,  when  he  came, 
there  was,  I  think,  no  one  species  of  miracle  which  lie 
so  frequently  performecl ;  which  may  justify  an  attention 
even  of  preference  in  us  to  this  calamity. 

It  is  now  some  years  since  a  method  has  been  found 
out,  and  practised  with  considerable  success,  of  teach- 
ing persons,  deaf  and  dumb  from  the  birth,  to  speak; 
but  it  was  not  till  the  institution  of  this  Asylum,  in  the 
year  1792,  that  the  benefit  of  this  discovery  was  ex- 
tended in  any  degree  to  the  poor, — the  great  attention, 
skill,  and  trouble,  requisite  in  the  practice,  putting  the 
expense  of  cure  far  beyond  the  reach  of  the  indigent, 
and  even  of  persons  of  a  middling  condition.  The 
Directors  of  this  charity,  who  are  likely,  from  their 
opportunities,  to  have  accurate  information  upon  the 
subject,  apprehend  that  the  number  of  persons  in  this 
lamentable  state  is  much  greater  than  might  be  ima- 
gined. 

In  this  Asylum,  as  many  as  the  funds  of  the  charity 
can  support,  are  tayght,  with  the  assistance  of  the  two 
senses  of  the  sight  and  the  touch,  to  speak,  read,  write, 
and  cast  accounts.  The  deafness  seems  the  unconquer- 
able part  of  the  malady ;  for  none  deaf  and  dumb  from 
the  birth  have  ever  been  brought  to  hear.  But  the  ca- 
lamity of  the  want  of  the  sense  of  hearing  is  much  alle- 
viated,— comparatively  speaking  it  is  removed,  by  giv- 
ing the  use  of  letters  and  of  speech,  by  which  they  are 


(     134    ) 

admitted  to  the  pleasure  of  social  conversation,— ai*e 
made  capable  of  receiving  both  amusement  and  instruc- 
tion from  books, — are  qualified  to  be  useful  both  to 
tliemselves  and  the  community, — and,  what  is  most  of 
all,  the  treasures  of  that  knowledge  which  maketh  wise 
unto  salvation  are  brought  within  their  reach.  The 
children  admitted  are  kept  under  the  tuition  of  the 
house  five  years,  which  is  found  to  be  the  time  requisite 
for  their  education.  They  are  provided  with  lodging, 
board,  and  washing;  and  the  only  expense  that  falls 
upon  the  parent,  or  the  parish,  is  in  the  article  of  cloth- 
ing. The  proficiency  of  those  admitted  at  the  first  in- 
stitution, in  November  1792,  exceeds  the  most  san- 
guine expectations  of  their  benefactors ;  and  the  progress 
of  those  who  have  been  admitted  at  subsequent  periods, 
is  in  full  proportion  to  the  time.  The  number  at  pre- 
sent exceeds  not  twenty.  There  are  at  this  time  at  least 
fifty  candidates  for  admission,  the  far  greater  part  of 
whom,  the  slender  finances  of  the  society  will  not  per- 
mit to  be  received. 

I  am  persuaded  that  this  simple  statement  of  the  object 
of  the  charity,  the  success  with  which  the  good  provi- 
dence of  God  has  blessed  its  endeavours,  witliin  the 
narrow  sphere  of  its  abilities,  and  the  deficient  state  of 
its  funds,  is  all  that  is  necessary  or  even  proper  for  mc 
to  say,  to  excite  you  to  a  liberal  contribution  for  the 
support  of  this  excellent  institution,  and  the  furtherance 
and  extension  of  its  views.  You  profess  yourselves  the 
disciples  of  that  Master,  who,  during  his  abode  on  earth 
in  the  fonn  of  a  servant,  went  about  doing  good, — who 
did  good  in  that  particular  species  of  distress  in  which 
this  charity  attempts  to  do  it, — and  who,  seated  now  at 
the  right  hand  of  God,  feends  down  his  blessing  upon 
those  who  follow  his  steps,  and  accepts  the  good  that  is 
done  to  the  least  of  those  whom  he  calls  his  brethren, 
as  done  unto  himself. 


SERMON    XI. 


John  xiii.  34 


A  new  commandment  I  give  unto  ijoit^  That  ye  love  one 
another ;  as  I  have  loved  you^  that  ye  also  lave  one 
another. 


In  that  memorable  night,  when  divine  love  and  infernal 
malice  had  each  their  perfect  work, — the  night  when 
Jesus  was  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  those  who  thirsted 
for  his  blood,  and  the  mysterious  scheme  of  man's  re- 
demption was  brought  to  its  accomplishment,  Jesus, 
having  finished  the  paschal  supper,  and  instituted  those 
holy  mysteries  by  which  the  thankful  remembrance  of 
his  oblation  of  himself  is  continued  in  the  church  until 
his  second  coming,  and  the  believer  is  nourished  with 
the  food  of  everlasting  life,  the  body  and  blood  of  the 
crucified  Redeemer; — when  all  this  was  finished,  and 
nothing  now  remained  of  his  great  and  painful  undertak- 
ing, but  the  last  trying  part  of  it,  to  be  led  like  a  sheep 
to  the  slaughter,  and  to  make  his  life  a  sacrifice  for  sin, 
—in  that  trying  hour,  just  before  he  retired  to  the  gar- 
den, where  the  power  of  darkness  was  to  be  permitted 
to  display  on  him  its  last  and  utmost  effort,  Jesus  gave 
it  solemnly  in  charge  to  the  eleven  apostles  (the  twelfth, 
the  son  of  perdition,  was  already  lost ;  he  was  gone  to 
hasten  the  execution  of  his  intended  treason), — to  the 
eleven,  whose  loyalty  remained  as  yet  unshaken,  Jesus 
in  thut  awful  hour  gave  it  solemnly  in  charge,  "to  lov^ 


'(     136     ) 

mic  another,  as  he  had  loved  them."  And  because  the 
perverse  wit  of  man  is  ever  fertile  in  plausible  evasions 
of  the  plainest  duties, — lest  this  command  should  be 
interpreted,  in  after  ages,  as  an  injunction  in  which  the 
apostles  only  were  concerned,  imposed  upon  them  in 
their  peculiar  character  of  the  governors  of  the  church, 
our  great  Master,  to  obviate  any  such  wilful  miscon- 
struction  of  his  dying  charge,  declared  it  to  be  his  plea- 
sure and  his  meaning,  that  the  exercise  of  mutual  lovCj 
in  all  ages,  and  in  all  nations,  among  men  of  all  ranks, 
caUings,  and  conditions,  should  be  the  general  badge 
and  distinction  of  his  disciples.  ''  By  this  shall  all  men 
know  that  ye  are  mj/  disciples,  if  ye  love  one  another." 
And  this  injunction  of  loving. one  another  as  he  had 
loved  them,  he  calls  a  new  commandment.  '^'  A  new 
commandment  I  give  unto  you,  that  ye  love  one  an- 
other." 

It  was,  indeed,  in  various  senses,  a  new  command- 
ment. First,  as  the  thing  enjoined  was  too  much  a  no- 
velty in  the  practice  of  mankind.  The  age  in  which 
our  Saviour  lived  on  earth  was  an  age  of  pleasure  and 
dissipation.  Sensual  appetite,  indulged  to  the  most  un- 
warrantable excess,  had  extinguished  all  the  nobler  feel- 
ings. This  is  ever  its  effect  when  it  is  suffered  to  get 
the  ascendant ;  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  it  said  by 
the  apostle  to  war  against  the  soul.  The  refinements  of 
luxury,  spread  among  all  ranks  of  men,  had  multiplied 
their  artificial  wants  beyond  the  proportion  of  the  largest 
fortunes ;  and  thus  bringing  all  men  into  the  class  of  the 
necessitous,  had  universally  induced  that  churlish  habit 
of  the  mind  in  which  every  feeling  is  considered  as  a 
weakness  which  terminates  not  in  self;  and  those  gene- 
rous sympathies  by  which  every  one  is  impelled  to  seek 
his  neighbour's  good,  are  industriously  suppressed,  as 
disturbers  of  the  repose  of  the  individual,  and  enemies 
fo  his  personal  enjoymcjit.     This  is  the  tendency,  and 


(     137    } 

ilath  ever  been  the  effect  of  luxury,  in  eveiy  natioi> 
where  it  hath  unhappily  taken  root.  It  renders  everj,^ 
man  selfish  upon  principle.  The  first  symptom  of  this 
fatal  corruption  is  the  extinction  of  genuine  public  spirit, 
—that  is,  of  all  real  regard  to  the  interests  and  good 
order  of  society ;  in  the  place  of  which  arises  that  base 
and  odious  counterfeit,  which,  assuming  the  name  of 
patriotism,  thinks  to  cever  the  infamy  of  every  vice 
which  can  disgrace  the  private  life  of  man,  by  clamours 
for  the  public  good,  of  which  the  real  object  all  the  while 
is  nothing  more  than  the  gratification  of  the  ambition 
and  rapacity  of  the  demagogue.  The  next  stage  of  the 
Qorruption,  is  a  perfect  indifference  and  insensibility,  in 
all  ranks  of  men,  to  every  thing  but  the  gratification  of 
the  moment.  An  idle  peasantry  subsist  themselves  by 
theft  and  violence ;  and  a  voluptuous  nobility  squander, 
on.  base  and  criminal  indulgencies,  that  superfluity  of 
siore  which  should  go  to  the  defence  of  the  country  in 
times  of  public  danger,  or  to  the  relief  of  private  dis- 
tress. In  an  age,  therefore,  of  luxury,  such  as  that  was 
in  which  our  Saviour  lived  on  earth,  genuine  philan- 
thropy being  necessarily  extinguished,  what  is  far  beyond 
ordinary  philanthropy,  the  religious  love  of  our  neigh- 
bour, rarely,  if  ever,  will  be  found. 

Nor  was  it  missing  only  in  the  manners  of  the  world, 
- — but  in  the  lessons  of  the  divines  and  moralists  of  that 
age,  mutual  love  was  a  topic  out  of  use.  The  Jews  of 
those  times  were  divided  in  their  religious  opinions  be- 
tween the  two  sects  of  the  Pharisees  and  the  Sadducees. 
The  Sadducees  were  indeed  the  infidels  of  their  age : 
they  denied  the  existence  of  any  immaterial  substance, 
— of  consequence  they  held  that  the  human  soul  is 
mortal;  and  they  denied  the  possibility  of  a  resurrection. 
Their  disciples  were  numerous  among  the  great  and  vo- 
luptuous, but  they  never  had  any  credit  with  the  body 
of  the  people.  The  popular  religion  was  that  of  the 
1.9 


(     138    j 

Pharisees;  and  this,  as  all  must  know  who  read  the 
New  Testament,  was  a  religion  of  form  and  show, — if 
diat  indeed  may  be  called  a  religion,  of  which  the  love 
of  God  and  man  made  no  essential  part.  Judge  whether 
they  taught  men  to  love  one  another,  who  taught  un- 
grateful children  to  evade  the  fifth  commandment,  with 
an  untroubled  conscience,  and  to  defraud  an  aged  parent 
of  that  support,  which,  by  the  i  uv  of  God  and  nature, 
was  his  due.  In  respect,  therefore,  of  both  these  cir- 
cumstances, that  it  prescribed  what  was  neglected  in  the 
practice  of  mankind,  and  what  was  omitted  in  the  ser- 
mons of  their  teachers,  our  Lord's  injunction  to  his  dis^ 
ciples,  to  love  one  another,  was  a  new  commandment. 
But  the  novelty  of  it  consisted  more  particularly  in  this, 
that  the  disciples  were  required  to  love  one  another,  after 
the  manner,  and,  if  the  frailty  of  human  nature  might 
so  far  aspire,  in  the  degree  in  which  Christ  loved  them : 
"  As  I  have  loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one  another." 
Christians  are  to  adjust  their  love  to  one  another  to  the 
measure  and  example  of  Christ's  love  to  them.  Christ's 
love  was  perfect  as  the  principle  from  whence  it  flowed, 
the  original  benignity  of  the  divine  character.  The  ex- 
ample of  this  perfect  love  in  the  life  of  man  was  a  new 
example;  and  the  injunction  of  conformity  to  this  new 
example  might  well  be  called  a  new  commandment. 
Otherwise,  the  commandment  that  men  should  love  one 
another,  considered  simply  in  itself,  without  reference 
to  the  deficiencies  in  the  manners  of  the  age,  or  to  the 
perfection  of  Christ's  example,  had  been  no  new  pre- 
cept of  revealed  religion.  This  is  a  point  which  seems 
to  be  generally  mistaken.  Men  are  apt,  upon  all  occa- 
sions, to  run  into  extremes ;  and  it  has  been  too  much 
the  practice  of  preachers,  in  these  later  ages,  in  their  zeal 
to  commend  what  every  one  will  indeed  the  more  admire 
the  more  he  understands  it,  to  heighten  the  encomium 
of  the  Christian  system,  by  depreciating,  not  only  the 


C     139    ) 

lessons  of  the  heathen  moralists,  but  the  moral  part  of 
the  Mosaic  institution.  Tliey  consider  not  that  the  pe- 
culiar excellence  of  the  Christian  system  lies  much 
more  in  doctrine  than  in  precept.  Our  Saviour,  indeed, 
and  his  apostles  after  him,  took  all  occasions  of  reprov- 
ing the  vices  of  mankind,  and  of  inculcating  a  punctual 
discharge  of  the  social  duties ;  and  tlie  morality  which 
they  taught,  was  of  the  purest  and  the  highest  kind. 
The  practice  of  the  duties  enjoined  in  their  precepts,  is 
the  end  for  which  their  doctrines  were  delivered.  It  is 
always,  tlierefore,  to  be  remembered,  that  the  practice 
of  these  duties  is  a  far  more  excellent  thing  in  the  life  of 
man — far  more  ornamental  of  the  Christian  profession, 
than  any  knowledge  of  tlie  doctrine  without  the  practice^ 
as  the  end  is  always  more  excellent  than  the  means. 
Nay,  the  knowledge  of  the  doctrines,  without  an  atten- 
tion to  the  practical  part,  is  a  thing  of  no  other  worth 
than  as  it  may  be  expected  some  time  or  other  to  pro- 
duce repentance.  But  this  end  of  bringing  men  to  right 
conduct — to  habits  of  temperance  and  sobriety — to  the 
mutual  exercise  of  justice  and  benevolence-— to  honesty 
in  their  dealings,  and  truth  in  their  words — to  a  love  of 
God,  as  the  protector  of  the  just — to  a  rational  fear  of 
him,  as  the  judge  of  human  actions, — the  establishment 
of  this  practical  religion,  is  an  end  common  to  Chris- 
tianity with  all  the  earlier  revelations — with  the  earliest 
revelations  to  the  patriarchs — with  the  Mosaic  institu- 
tion, and  with  the  preachings  of  the  prophets ;  and  the 
peculiar  excellency  of  Christianity  cannot  be  placed  in 
that  which  it  hath  in  common  with  all  true  religions,  but 
rather  in  the  efficacy  of  the  means  which  it  employs  to 
compass  the  common  end  of  all,  the  conversion  of  the 
lost  world  to  God.  The  efficacy  of  these  means  lies 
neither  in  the  fulness  nor  the  perspicuity  of  the  precepts 
of  the  gospel,  though  they  are  sufficiently  full  and  en- 
tirely perspicuous:  but  the  great  advantage  of  the  Chris- 


(    140    ) 

tian  revelation  is,  that,  by  the  large  discovery  which  il 
makes  of  the  principles  and  plan  ot*  God's  moral  go- 
vernment of  the  world,  it  furnishes  suflicient  motives  to 
the  practice  of  those  dutieSj  which  its  precepts,  in  har- 
mony with  the  natural  suggestions  of  conscience,  an(| 
with  former  revelations,  recommend.  This  is  the  true 
panegyric  of  the  glorious  revelation  we  enjoy, — that  its 
doctrines  are  more  immediately  and  clearly  connected 
with  its  end,  and  more  effectual  for  the  attainment  of  it, 
than  the  precarious  conclusions  of  human  philosophy, 
or  the  imperfect  discoveries  of  earlier  revelations, — that 
the  motives  by  which  its  precepts  are  enforced,  are  the 
most  powerful  that  might  with  propriety  be  addressed  to 
free  and  rational  agents.  It  is  commonly  said,  and  some- 
times strenuously  insisted,  as  a  circumstance  in  which 
the  ethic  of  all  religions  falls  short  of  the  Christian,  that 
the  precept  of  universal  benevolence,  embracing  all  man- 
kind, without  distinction  of  party,  sect,  or  nation,  had 
never  been  heard  of  till  it  was  inculcated  by  our  Sa- 
viour. But  this  is  a  mistake.  Were  it  not  that  expe- 
rience and  observation  afford  daily  proof  how  easily  ^ 
sound  judgment  is  misled  by  the  exuberance  even  of  an 
honest  zeal,  we  should  be  apt  to  say  that  this  could  be 
maintained  by  nonej  who  had  ever  read  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. The  obligation,  indeed,  upon  Christians,  to  make 
the  avowed  enemies  of  Christianity  the  objects  of  their 
prayers  and  of  their  love,  arises  out  of  the  peculiar  na- 
ture of  Christianity,  considered  as  the  work  of  reconci- 
liation. Our  Saviour,  too,  was  the  first  who  showed  to 
what  extent  the  specific  duty  of  mutual  forgiveness  is 
mcluded  in  the  general  command  of  mutual  love ;  but 
tlie  command  itself,  in  its  full  extent,  "  That  every  man 
should  love  his  neighbour  As  himself,"  we  shall  find,  if 
we  consult  the  Old  Testament,  to  be  just  as  old  as  any 
part  of  the  religion  of  the  Jews.  The  two  maxims  to 
^hich  our  Saviour  refers  the  whole  of  the  law  and  thp 


(    141    } 

prophets,  were  maxims  of  the  Mosaic  law  itself.  Had 
it,  indeed,  been  otherwise,  our  Saviour,  when  he  alleged 
these  maxims  in  answer  to  the  lawyer's  question, "  Which 
is  the  chief  commandment  of  the  law?"  would  not  have 
answered  with  that  wonderful  precision  and  discernment 
which  on  so  many  occasions  put  his  adversaries  to  shame 
and  silence. 

Indeed,  had  these  maxims  not  been  found  in  the  law 
of  Moses,  it  would  still  have  been  true  of  them,  that 
they  contain  every  thing  which  can  be  required  of  man, 
as  matter  of  general  indispensable  duty ;  insomuch,  that 
nothing  can  become  an  act  of  duty  to  God,  or  to  our 
neighbour,  otherwise  than  as  it  is  capable  of  being  re- 
ferred to  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  general  topics. 
They  might  be  said,  therefore,  to  be,  in  the  nature  of 
the  thing,  the  supreme  and  chief  of  all  commandments ; 
being  those  to  which  all  others  are  naturally  and  neces- 
sarily subordinate,  and  in  which  all  others  are  contained 
as  parts  in  the  whole.  All  this  would  have  been  true, 
though  neither  of  these  maxims  had  had  a  place  in  the 
law  of  Moses.  But  it  would  not  have  been  a  pertinent 
answer  to  the  lawyer's  question,  nor  would  it  have  taken 
the  effect  which  our  Lord's  answer  actually  took,  with 
the  subtle  disputants  with  whom  he  was  engaged,  "  that 
no  man  durst  ask  him  any  more  questions."  The  law- 
yer's question  was  not,  what  thing  might,  in  its  own  na- 
ture, be  the  best  to  be  commanded  ?  To  this,  indeed, 
it  might  have  been  wisely  answered,  that  the  love  of  God 
is  the  best  of  all  things,  and  that  the  next  best  is  the  love 
of  man ;  although  Moses  had  not  expressly  mentioned 
either.  But  the  question  was,  "  Which  is  the  great 
commandment  in  the  law?" — that  is,  in  Moseses  law; 
for  the  expression  "  the  law,"  in  the  mouth  of  a  Jew, 
could  carry  no  other  meaning.  To  this  it  had  been  vain 
to  allege,  "  the  love  of  God  or  man,"  had  there  been  no 
express  requisition  of  them  in  the  law,  notwithstanding 


(     142    ) 

the  confessed  natural  excellence  of  the  things ;  because 
the  question  was  not  about  natural  excellence,  but  what 
was  to  be  reckoned  the  first  in  authority  and  importance 
among  the  written  commandments.  Those  masters' of 
sophistry,  with  whom  our  Saviour  had  been  for  some 
hours  engaged,  felt  themselves  overcome,  when  he  pro- 
duced from  the  books  of  the  law^  two  maxims,  which, 
forming  a  complete  and  simple  summary  of  the  ^vhole, — 
and  not  only  of  the  whole  of  the  Mosaic  law,  but  of 
every  law  which  God  ever  did  or  ever  will  prescribe  to 
man, — evidently  claimed  to  be  the  first  and  chief  com- 
mandments. The  first,  enjoining  the  love  of  God,  is  to 
be  found,  in  the  very  words  in  which  our  Saviour  re- 
cited it,  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  at  the 
fifth  verse.  The  second,  enjoining  the  love  of  our  neigh- 
bour, is  to  be  found,  in  the  very  words  in  which  our 
Saviour  recited  it,  in  the  nineteenth  chapter  of  Leviticus, 
at  the  eighteenth  verse. 

The  injunction,  therefore,  of  conformity  to  his  owiib 
example,  is  that  which  is  chiefly  new  in  the  command- 
ment of  our  Lord.  As  it  is  in  this  circumstance  that 
the  commandment  is  properly  his,  it  is  by  nothing  less 
than  the  conformity  enjoined,  or  an  assiduous  endea- 
vour after  that  conformity,  that  his  commandment  is 
fulfilled. 

The  perfection  of  Christ's  example  it  is  easier  to  un- 
derstand than  to  imitate ;  and  yet  it  is  not  to  be  under- 
stood without  serious  and  deep  meditation  on  the  parti- 
culars of  his  history.  Pure  and  disinterested  in  its  mo- 
tives, the  love  of  Christ  had  solely  for  its  end  the  hap- 
piness of  those  who  were  the  objects  of  it.  An  equal 
sharer  with  the  Almighty  Father  in  the  happiness  and 
glory  of  the  Godhead,  the  Redeemer  had  no  prope^r  in- 
terest in  the  fate  of  fallen  man.  Infinite  in  its  compre- 
hension, his  love  embraced  his  enemies;  intense  in  its 
energy,  it  incited  him  to  assume  a  frail  and  mortal  na- 


{     143     ) 

ture, — to  undergo  contempt  and  death ;  constant  in  its 
operations,  in  the  paroxysm  of  an  agonj',  the  sharpest 
the  human  mind  was  ever  known  to  sustain,  it  main- 
tained its  vigour  unimpaired.  In  the  whole  business  of 
man's  redemption,  wonderful  in  all  its  parts,  in  its  be- 
ginning, its  progress,  and  completion,  the  most  wouder- 
ful  part  of  all  is  the  character  of  Christ, — a  character 
not  exempt  from  those  feelings  of  the  soul  and  infirmities 
of  the  body  which  render  man  obnoxious  to  temptation, 
but  in  which  the  two  principles  of  piety  to  God,  and 
good  will  to  man,  maintained  such  an  ascendancy  over  all 
the  rest,  that  they  might  seem  by  themselves  to  make 
the  whole.  This  character,  in  which  piety  and  bene- 
volence, upon  all  occasions,  and  in  all  circumstances, 
overpowered  all  the  inferior  passions,  is  more  incom- 
prehensible to  the  natural  reason  of  the  carnal  man,  than 
the  deepest  mysteries, — more  improbable  than  the 
greatest  miracles, — of  all  the  particulars  of  the  gospel 
history,  the  most  trying  to  the  evil  heart  of  unbelief, — 
the  very  last  thing,  I  am  persuaded,  that  a  ripened  faith 
receives ;  but  of  all  things  the  most  important  and  the 
most  necessary  to  be  well  understood  and  firmly  be- 
lieved,— the  most  efficacious  for  the  softening  of  the 
sinner's  heart,  for  quelHng  the  pride  of  human  wisdom, 
and  for  bringing  every  thought  and  imagination  of  the 
soul  into  subjection  to  the  righteousness  of  God.  "  Let 
this  mind,"  says  tlie  apostle,  "  be  in  you,  which  was 
also  in  Christ  Jesus;" — that  mind  which  incited  him, 
when  he  considered  the  holiness  of  God,  and  the  guilt 
and  corruption  of  fallen  man,  to  say,  "1  come  to  do  thy 
will,  O  God!"— that  is,  according  to  the  same  apostle's 
interpretation,  to  do  that  will  by  which  we  are  sanctified, 
— to  make  the  satisfaction  for  the  sinful  race  which  di- 
vine justice  demanded.  Being  in  the  form  of  God,  he 
made  himself  of  no  reputation ;  he  divested  himself  of 
*hvX  externHl  form  of  glor\^  in  which  he  had  been  acouc- 


(     144    ) 

tomed  to  appear  to  the  patriarchs  in  the  first  ages,  itk 
which  he  appeared  to  Moses  in  the  bush,  and  to  his 
chosen  servants  in  later  periods  of  the  Jewish  history, 
— that  form  of  glory  in  which  his  presence  was  mani- 
fested between  the  cherubim  in  the  Jewish  sanctuary. 
He  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and,  uniting  him- 
self to  the  holy  fruit  of  Mary's  womb,  he  took  upon 
him  the  form  of  a  slave, — of  that  fallen  creature  who 
had  sold  himself  into  the  bondage  of  Satan,  sin,  and 
death ;  and,  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  hum- 
bled himself, — he  submitted  to  the  condition  of  a  man 
in  its  most  humiliating  circumstances,  and  carried  his 
obedience  unto  death — the  death  even  of  the  cross — the 
painful  ignominious  death  of  a  malefactor,  by  a  public 
execution.  He  who  shall  one  day  judge  the  world,  suf- 
fered himself  to  be  produced  as  a  criminal  at  Pilate's 
tribunal ;  he  submitted  to  the  sentence,  which  the  das- 
tardly judge  who  pronounced  it  confessed  to  be  unjust : 
the  Lord  of  gloiy  suffered  himself  to  be  made  the  jest 
of  Herod  and  his  captains :  he  who  could  have  sum- 
moned twelve  legions  of  angels  to  form  a  flaming  guard 
around  his  person,  or  have  called  down  fire  from  heaven 
on  the  guilty  city  of  Jerusalem,  on  his  false  accusers, 
liis  uru"ighteous  judge,  the  executioners,  and  the  insult- 
ing rabble, — made  no  resistance  when  his  body  was 
fastened  to  the  cross  by  the  Roman  soldiers, — endured 
the  reproaches  of  the  chief  priests  and  rulers — the  taunts 
and  revilings  of  the  Jewish  populace ;  and  this  not  from 
any  consternation  arising  from  his  bodily  sufferings, 
which  might  be  supposed  for  the  moment  to  deprive 
him  of  the  knowledge  of  himself.  He  possessed  him- 
self to  the  last.  In  the  height  of  his  agonies,  with  a 
magnanimity  not  less  extraordinary  than  his  patient  en- 
durance of  pain  and  contumely,  he  accepted  the  homage, 
which,  in  that  situation,  was  offered  to  him  as  the  king 
of  Israel,  and  in  the  highest  tone  ©f  confident  authority, 


(     145     ) 

promised  to  conduct  the  penitent  companion  of  his  suf- 
ferings that  veiy  day  to  Paradise.  What,  then,  was  the 
motive  which  restrained  the  Lord  of  might  and  glory, 
that  he  put  not  forth  his  power  for  the  deUverance  of 
himself  and  the  destruction  of  his  enemies?-— Evidently 
that  which  he  avows  upon  his  coming  first  into  the 
world:  "  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O  God!"  and,  by  do- 
ing  of  that  will,  to  rescue  man  from  wrath  and  punish- 
ment. Such  is  the  example  of  resignation  to  God's  will 
—of  indifference  to  things  temporal— of  humility,  and 
of  love,  we  are  called  upon  to  imitate. 

The  sense  of  our  inability  to  attain  to  the  perfection 
of  Christ's  example,  is  a  reason  for  much  humility,  and 
for  much  mutual  forbearance,  but  no  excuse  for  the 
wilful  neglect  of  his  command.    It  may  seem  that  it  is 
of  little  consequence  to  inculcate  virtues  which  can  be 
but  seldom  practised ;  and  a  general  and  active  benevo- 
lence, embracing  all  mankind,  and  embracing  persecu- 
tion and  death,  may  appear  to  come  under  this  descrip- 
tion :  it  may  seem  a  virtue  proportioned  to  the  abilities 
of  few,  and  inculcated  on  mankind  in  general  to  little 
purpose.     But,  though  it  may  be  given  to  few  to  make 
themselves  conspicuous  as  benefiictors  of  mankind,  by 
such  actions  as  are  usually  called  great,   because  the 
effect  of  them  on  the  welfare  of  various  descriptions  of 
the  human  race  is  immediate  and  notorious,  the  principle 
of  religious  philanthropy,  influencing  the  whole  conduct 
of  a  private  man,  in  the  lowest  situations  of  life,  is  of 
much  more  univei-sal  benefit  than  is  at  first  perceived. 
The  terror  of  the  laws  may  restrain  men  from  flagrant 
crimes,  but  it  is  this  principle  alone  that  can  make  any 
man  a  useful  member  of  society.    This  restrains  him, 
not  only  from  those  violent  invasions  of  another's  right, 
which  are  punished  by  human  laws,  but  it  overrules  the 
passions  from  which  those  enormities  proceed ;  and  the 
secret  effects  of  it,  were  it  but  once  universal,  would  be 
20 


(    146    ; 

more  beneficial  to  human  life  than  the  most  brilliant  ac- 
tions of  those  have  ever  been  to  whom  blind  supersti- 
tion has  erected  statues  and  devoted  altars.  As  this 
principle  is  that  which  makes  a  man  the  most  useful  to 
others,  so  it  is  that  alone  which  makes  the  character  of 
the  individual  amiable  in  itself, — amiable,  not  only  in 
the  judgment  of  man,  but  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  in 
the  truth  of  things ;  for  God  himself  is  love,  and  the 
perfections  of  God  are  the  standard  of  all  perfection. 


SERMON    XII. 


Matthew  xvi.  28. 

Verily^  I  say  unto  you,  there  be  some  standing  here, 
which  shall  not  taste  of  death  till  they  see  the  Son  of 
Man  coming  in  his  kingdom. 


1  HESE  remarkable  words  stand  in  the  conclusion  of 
a  certain  discourse,  with  the  subject  of  which,  as  they 
have  been  generally  understood,  they  seem  to  be  but 
little  connected.  It  must  therefore  be  my  business  to 
establish  what  I  take  to  be  their  true  meaning,  before  I 
attempt  to  enlarge  upon  the  momentous  doctrine  which 
I  conceive  to  be  contained  in  them. 

The  marks  of  horror  and  aversion  with  which  our 
Lord's  disciples  received  the  first  intimations  of  his 
sufferings,  gave  occasion  to  a  seasonable  lecture  upon 
the  necessity  of  self-denial,  as  the  means  appointed  by 
Providence  for  the  attainment  of  future  happiness  and 
glory.  "  If  any  one,"  says  our  Lord,  "  would  come 
after  me," — if  any  one  pretends  to  be  my  disciple,  "  let 
him  take  up  his  cross  and  follow  me."  To  enforce  this 
precept,  as  prescribing  a  conduct,  which,  afflictive  as  it 
may  seem  for  the  present,  is  yet  no  other  than  it  is 
every  man's  truest  interest  to  pursue,  he  reminds  his 
hearers  of  the  infinite  disproportion  between  time  and 
eternity ; — he  assures  them  of  the  certainty  of  a  day  of 
retribution ;  and  to  that  assurance  he  subjoins  the  decla- 
ration of  the  text,  a.^i  a  weighty  truth,  in  which  they 


(    148    ; 

were  deeply  interested, — for  so  much  the  earnestness 
with  wliich  it  seems  to  have  been  dehvered  speaks. 
"  Verily,  I  say  unto  you," — these  are  words  bespeaking 
a  most  serious  attention, — "  Verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
there  be  some  standing  here,  which  shall  not  taste  of 
death  till  they  see  the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  his  king- 
dom." 

Hei-e,  then,  is  an  assertion  concerning  some  persons 
who  were  present  at  this  discourse  of  our  Lord's,  that 
they  "  should  not  taste  of  death"  before  a  certain  time  ; 
which  time  is  described  as  that  when  "  the  Son  of  Man 
should  be  seen  coming  in  his  kingdom."  Observe,  it 
is  not  simply  the  time  when  the  Son  of  Man  should 
come,  but  the  time  when  he  should  come  in  his  kingdo7n^ 
and  when  he  should  be  seen  so  coming.  In  order  to 
ascertain  the  meaning  of  this  assertion,  the  first  point 
must  be,  to  determine,  if  possible,  what  may  be  the 
particular  time  which  is  thus  described.  From  the  re- 
solution of  this  question,  it  will  probably  appear  in  what 
sense,  figurative  or  literal,  it  might  be  afiirmed  of  any 
who  were  present  at  this  discourse,  that  they  should  not 
taste  of  death  before  that  time ;  also,  who  they  might  be 
at  whom  the  words  "  some  standing  here"  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  been  pointed.  And  when  we  shall  have 
discovered  who  they  were  of  whom  our  Lord  spake,  and 
what  it  was  he  spake  concerning  them,  it  is  likely  we 
shall  then  discern  for  what  purpose  of  general  edification 
the  particular  destiny  of  those  persons  was  thus  publicly 
declared. 

Many  expositors,  both  ancient  and  modern,  by  "  the 
coming  of  the  Son  of  Man,"  in  this  text,  have  under- 
stood the  transfiguration.  This  notion  probably  takes 
its  rise  from  the  manner  in  which  St.  Peter  mentions 
that  memorable  transaction,  in  the  first  chapter  of  his 
second  catholic  epistle ;  where,  speaking  of  himself  as 
present  upon  that  occasion  in  the  holy  mountain,  he  says 


(     149     ) 

ihat  he  was  then  an  eye-witness  of  the  majesty  of  out* 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Hence,  perhaps,  the  hint  was  taken, 
that  the  transfiguration  might  be  considered  as  the  first 
manifestation  of  our  Lord  in  glory  to  the  sons  of  men, 
and  that  the  apostles,  who  were  permitted  to  be  present, 
might  be  said  to  have  seen  the  Son  of  Man  at  that  time 
coming  in  his  kingdom ;  and  it  must  be  confessed,  that 
no  violence  is  done  to  the  phrase  of  "  the  coming  of 
the  Son  of  Man,"  considered  by  itself,  in  this  inter- 
pretation. But,  if  it  be  admitted, — if  the  time  described 
as  that  when  the  Son  of  Man  should  be  seen  coming  in 
his  kingdom,  be  understood  to  have  been  the  time  of  the 
transfiguration,  what  will  be  the  amount  of  the  solemij 
asseveration  in  the  text? — Nothing  more  than  this, — 
that  in  the  numerous  assembly  to  which  our  Lord  was 
speaking,  composed  perhaps  of  persons  of  all  ages,  there 
were  some, — the  expressions  certainly  intimate  no  great 
number, — but  some  few  of  this  great  multitude  there 
were,  who  were  not  to  die  within  a  week ;  for  so  much 
was  the  utmost  interval  of  time  bet^veen  this  discourse 
and  the  transfiguration.  Our  great  Lord  and  Master 
was  not  accustomed  to  amuse  his  followers  with  any 
such  nugatory  predictions. 

The  like  argument  sets  aside  another  interpretation,  in 
which  our  Lord's  ascension  and  the  mission  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  are  considered  as  the  "  coming  in  his  kingdom" 
intended  in  the  text.  Of  what  importance  was  it  to  tell 
a  numerous  assembly  (for  it  was  not  to  the  disciples  in 
particular,  but  to  the  whole  multitude,  as  w^e  learn  from 
St.  Mark,  that  this  discourse  was  addressed),^©  what 
purpose,  I  say,  could  it  be  to  tell  them  that  there  were 
some  among  them  who  were  destined  to  live  half  a  year? 

Both  these  interpretations  have  given  way  to  a  third, 
in  which  "  the  coming  of  our  Lord  in  his  kingdom"  is 
supposed  to  denote  the  epoch  of  the  destruction  of  Je- 
rusalem.   This  exposition  is  perhaps  not  so  well  war- 


(    150    ) 

Kanted  as  hath  been  generally  imagined,  by  the  usual 
import  of  the  phrase  of  the  "  coming  of  the  Son  of 
Man,"  in  other  passages  of  holy  writ.  There  is  no 
question  but  that  the  coming  of  our  Lord,  taken  literally, 
signifies  his  coming  in  person  to  the  general  judgment; 
and,  if  the  time  permitted  me  to  enter  upon  a  minute 
examination  of  the  several  texts  wherein  the  phrase  oc- 
curs, it  might  perhaps  appear,  that,  except  in  the  book 
of  Revelations,  the  figurative  sense  is  exceedingly  rare 
in  the  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament,  if  not  altoge- 
ther unexampled.  Be  that  as  it  may,  there  is  no  ques- 
tion  but  that  the  coming  of  our  Lord,  taken  literally, 
signifies  his  coming  in  person  to  the  general  judgment; 
and  the  close  connection  of  the  words  of  the  text  with 
what  immediately  precedes,  in  our  Lord's  discourse, 
makes  it  unreasonable,  in  my  judgment,  to  look  for  any 
thing  here  but  the  literal  meaning.  In  the  verse  next 
before  the  text,  our  Lord  speaks  of  the  coming  of  the 
Son  of  Man  in  terms  that  necessarily  limit  the  notion  of 
his  coming  to  that  of  his  last  coming  to  the  general 
judgment.  *'  For  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  the 
glory  of  his  Father,  with  his  angels;  and  then  he  shall 
reward  every  man  according  to  his  works."  And  then 
he  adds,  "  Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  there  be  some  stand- 
ing here,  which  shall  not  taste  of  death  till  they  see  the 
Son  of  Man  coming  in  his  kingdom."  First,  it  is  said 
the  Son  of  Man  shall  come; — it  is  immediately  added, 
that  some  then  present  should  see  him  coming.  To 
what  purpose  is  this  second  declaration,  but  as  a  re- 
petition of  the  first,  with  the  addition  of  a  circumstance 
which  might  interest  the  audience  in  the  event,  and 
awaken  their  serious  attention  to  it?  "I  will  come,  and 
some  of  you  shall  see  nie  coming."  Can  it  be  sup- 
posed, that  in  such  an  asseveration,  the  word  to  come 
may  bear  tivo  different  senses ;  and  that  the  coming,  of 
which  it  was  said  that  it  should  be  seen,  should  not  be 


i     151     ) 

visible?  But  what  then?  Did  our  Lord  actually  aVer 
that  any  of  those  who  upon  this  occasion  were  his 
hearers,  should  live  to  the  day  of  the  general  judgment? 

It  cannot  be  supposed  :  that  were  to  ascribe  to  him  a 

prediction  which  the  event  of  things  hath  falsified.    Murk 
his  words :  "  There  be  some  standing  here,  who  shall 
not  taste  of  death."    He  says  not,  "  who  shall  not  die,'' 
but  "  who  shall  not  taste  of  death."    Not  to  taste  of 
death,  is  not  to  feel  the  pains  of  it — not  to  taste  its  bit- 
terness.    In  this  sense  was  the  same  expression  used  by 
our  Lord  upon  other  occasions,  as  was  indeed  the  more 
simple  expression  of  not  dying.     "  If  a  man  keep  my 
saying,  he  shall  never  taste  of  deaths    The  expression 
is  to  be  understood  with  reference  to  the  intermediate 
state  between  death  and  the  final  judgment,  in  which 
the  souls  both  of  the  righteous  and  the  wicked  exist  in 
a  conscious  state, — the  one  comforted  with  the  hope  and 
■prospect  of  their  future  glory, — the  other  mortified  with 
the  expectation  of  torment.     The  promise  to  the  saints, 
that  they  shall  never  taste  of  death,  is  without  limitation 
of  time ; — in  the  text,  a  time  being  set,  until  which  the 
persons  intended  shall  not  taste  of  cltath,  it  is  implied 
that  then  they  shall  taste  it.    The  departure  of  the  wicked 
into  everlasting  torment,  is,  in  Scripture,  called  the  se- 
cond death.    This  is  the  death  from  which  Christ  came 
to  save  penitent  sinners ;  and  to  this  the  impenitent  re- 
main obnoxious.     The  pangs  and  horrors  of  it  will  be 
such,  that  the  evil  of  natural  death,  in  comparison,  may 
well  be  overlooked ;  and  it  may  be  said  of  the  wicked, 
that  they  shall  have  no  real  taste  of  death  till  they  taste 
it  in  the  burning  lake,  from  whence  the  smoke  of  their 
torment  shall  ascend  for  ever  and  ever.     This  is  what 
our  Lord  insinuates  in  the  alarming  menace  of  the  text ; 
—this,  at  least,  is  the  most  literal  exposition  that  the 
words  will  bear ;  and  it  connects  them  more  than  any 
other  with  the  scope  and  occasion   of  the  v/hole  dis- 


C    152    ) 

bourse.  "  Whosoever,"  says  our  Lord,  "  will  lose  his 
life  shall  find  it," — shall  find,  instead  of  the  life  he  loses 
here,  a  better  in  the  world  to  come ;  "  and  whosoever 
will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it," — shall  lose  that  life  which 
alone  is  worth  his  care :  "  for  what  is  a  man  profited,  if 
he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul ;  or  what 
shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?"  For  there 
will  come  a  day  of  judgment  and  retribution  ; — the  Son 
of  Man, — he  who  now  converses  with  you  in  a  human 
form,  "  shall  come  in  the  glory  of  the  Father,  with  Jiis 
angels ;  and  then  he  shall  reward  every  man  according 
to  his  works."  On  them  who,  by  patient  continuance 
in  well-doing,  have  sought  for  life  and  immortality, — on 
them  he  shall  bestow  glory  and  happiness,  honour  and 
praise ;  but  shame  and  rebuke,  tribulation  and  anguish, 
upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doeth  evil."  The  purport 
of  the  discourse  was  to  enforce  a  just  contempt  both  of 
the  enjoyments  and  of  the  sufferings  of  the  present  life, 
from  the  consideration  of  the  better  enjoyments  and  of 
the  heavier  sufferings  of  the  life  to  come;  and  because 
the  discourse  was  occasioned  by  a  fear  which  the  dis- 
ciples had  betraj \;d  of  the  sufferings  of  this  world,  for 
which  another  fear  might  seem  the  best  antagonist, — for 
this  reason,  the  point  chiefly  insisted  on,  is  the  magni- 
tude of  the  loss  to  them  who  should  lose  their  souls. 
To  give  this  consideration  its  full  effect,  the  hearers  are 
told  that  there  were  those  among  themselves  who  stood 
in  this  dangerous  predicament.  "  There  be  some  stand- 
ing here,  who  shall  not  taste  of  death  till  they  see  the 
Son  of  Man  coming  in  his  kingdom;"  and  then  will 
they  be  doomed  to  endless  sufferings,  in  comparison 
with  which  the  previous  pangs  of  natural  death  are  no- 
thing. "  Flatter  not  yourselves  that  these  threatenings 
will  never  be  executed, — that  none  will  be  so  incorrigi- 
bly bad  as  to  incur  the  extremity  of  these  punishments  : 
verily,  I  say  unto  you,  there  are  present  in  this  very 


(     153     ) 

assembly ,--there  are  persons  standing  here,  who  will  be 
criminal  in  that  degree,  that  they  will  inevitably  feel  the 
severity  of  vindictive  justice, — persons  who  now  per- 
haps hear  these  warnings  with  incredulity  and  contempt : 
but  the  time  will  come,  when  they  will  see  the  Son  of 
Man,  whom  they  despised— whom  they  rejected — whom 
they  persecuted,  coming  to  execute  vengeance  on  them 
who  have  not  known  God,  nor  obeyed  the  gospel ;  and 
then  will  they  be  doomed  to  endless  sufferings,  in  com- 
parison with  which  the  previous  pangs  of  natural  death 
are  nothing." 

It  will  be  proper,  however,  to  consider,  whether, 
among  the  hearers  of  this  discourse,  there  might  be  any 
at  whom  it  may  be  probable  that  our  Lord  should  point 
so  express  a  denunciation  of  final  destruction. 

"  There  are  same  standing  here.'' — The  original  words, 
according  to  the  reading  which  our  English  translators 
seem  to  have  followed,  might  be  more  exactly  rendered 

"  There  are  certain  persons  standing  here;''  where  the 

expression  certain  persons  hath  just  the  same  definite 
sense  as  a  certain  person,  the  force  of  the  plural  number 
being  only  that  it  is  a  more  reserved,  and,  for  that  rea- 
son, a  more  alarming  way  of  pointing  at  an  individual. 
Now,  in  the  assembly  to  which  our  Lord  was  speaking, 
a  certain  person,  it  may  well  be  supposed,  was  present, 
whom  charity  herself  may  hardly  scruple  to  include 
among  the  miserable  objects  of  God's  final  vengeance. 
The  son  of  perdition,  Judas  the  traitor,  was  standing 
there.  Our  Saviour's  first  prediction  of  his  passion  was 
that  which  gave  occasion  to  this  whole  discourse.  It 
may  reasonably  be  supposed,  that  the  tragical  conclusion 
of  his  life  on  earth  was  present  to  his  mind,  with  all  its 
horrid  circumstances:  and,  among  tliese,  none  was 
likely  to  make  a  more  painful  impression  than  the  trea- 
son of  his  base  disciple.  His  mind  possessed  with  these 
objects,  when  the  scene  of  the  general  judgment  comes 
21 


i     154    ) 

iti  view,— the  traitor  standing  in  his  sight, — his  crime 
foreseen, — the  sordid  motives  of  it  understood, — the 
forethought  of  the  fallen  apostle's  punishment  could  not 
but  present  itself;  and  this  drew  from  our  divine  in- 
structor that  alarming  menace,  which  must  have  struck 
a  chill  of  horror  to  the  heart  of  every  one  that  heard  it, 
and  the  more,  because  the  particular  application  of  it  was 
not  at  the  time  understood.  This  was  the  eifect  intended. 
Our  Lord  meant  to  impress  his  audience  with  a  just 
and  affecting  sense  of  the  magnitude  of  those  evils — the 
sharpness  of  those  pains,  which  none  but  the  ungodly 
shall  ever  feel,  and  from  which  none  of  the  ungodly  ever 
shall  escape. 

Nor  in  this  passage  only,  but  in  every  page  of  holy 
writ,  are  these  terrors  displayed,  in  expressions  studi- 
ously adapted  to  lay  hold  of  the  imagination  of  mankind, 
and  awaken  the  most  thoughtless  to  such  an  habitual 
sense  of  danger,  as  might  be  sufficient  to  overcome  the 
most  powerful  allurements  of  vice.  "  The  wicked  are 
logo  into  outer  darkness;  there  is  to  be  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth ;  they  are  to  depart  into  everlasting 
fuc,  prepared  for  die  Devil  and  his  angels,  where  the 
worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fu'c  is'  not  quenched ;  there 
ihey  shall  drink  of  the  wrath  of  God,  poured  out  with- 
out mixture  into  the  cup  of  his  indignation."  Whatever 
there  may  be  of  figure  in  some  of  these  expressions,  as 
much  as  this  they  certainly  import, — that  the  future 
btate  of  the  wicked  will  be  a  state  of  exquisite  torment 
both  of  body  and  mind, — of  torments,  not  only  intense 
in  degree,  but  incapable  of  intermission,  cure,  or  end. 
— a  condition  of  unmixed  and  perfect  evil,  not  less  de- 
prived of  future  hope  than  of  present  enjoyment. 

It  is  amazing,  that  a  danger  so  strongly  set  forth  should 
be  disregarded;  and  this  is  the  more  amazing,  when  we 
take  a  view  of  the  particular  casts  and  complexions  of 
i  haructev  among  whi(  li  this  disregard  is  chiefly  found. 


(     155     } 

riiey  may  be  reduced  to  three  different  classes,  accord- 
ing to  the  three  different  passions  by  which  they  are  se- 
verally overcome,-r— ambition,  avarice,  and  sensuality. 
Personal  consequence  is  the  object  of  the  first  class ; 
wealth,  of  the  second ;  pleasure,  of  the  third.  Personal 
consequence  is  not  to  be  acquired  but  by  great  under- 
takings, bold  in  the  first  conception,  difficult  in  execu- 
tion, extensive  in  consequence.  Such  undertakings  de- 
mand great  abilities.  Accordingly,  we  commonly  find 
in  the  ambitious  man  a  superiority  of  parts,  in  some 
measure  proportioned  to  the  magnitude  of  his  designs  : 
it  is  his  particular  talent  to  weigh  distant  consequences, 
to  provide  against  them,  and  to  turn  every  thing,  by  a 
deep  policy  and  forecast,  to  his  own  advantage.  It  might 
be  expected,  that  this  sagacity  of  understanding  would 
restram  him  from  the  desperate  folly  of  sacrificing  an 
unfading  crown  for  that  glory  that  must  shortly  pas^. 
away.  Again,  your  avaricious  money-getting  man  i  i 
generally  a  character  of  wonderful  discretion.  It  might 
be  expected  that  he  would  be  exact  to  count  his  gains, 
and  would  be  the  last  to  barter  possessions  which  he 
might  hold  for  ever,  for  a  wealth  that  shall  be  taken  from 
him,  and  shall  not  profit  him  in  the  day  of  wrath. 
Then,  for  those  servants  of  sin,  the  effeminate  sons  of 
sensual  pleasure,  these  are  a  feeble  timid  race.  It  might 
be  expected  that  these,  of  all  men,  would  want  firmness 
to  brave  the  danger.  Yet  so  it  is, — the  ambitious  pur- 
sues a  conduct  which  must  end  in  shame ;  the  miser,  to 
l3e  rich  now,  makes  himself  poor  for  ever ;  and  the  ten- 
der delicate  voluptuary  shrinks  not  at  the  thought  of 
endless  burnings ! 

These  things  could  not  be,  but  for  one  of  these  two 
reasons, — either  that  there  is  some  lurkiiig  incredulity  in 
men — an  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  that  admits  not  the  gospel 
doctrine  of  punishment  in  its  full  extent;  or,  that  their 
imaginations  set  th^  danger  at  a  prodigious  distance. 


{    156    ; 

The  Scriptures  are  not  more  explicit  in  the  threaten- 
ings  of  wrath  upon  the  impenitent,  than  in  general  as- 
sertions of  God's  forbearance  and  mercy.  These  asser- 
tions are  confirmed  by  the  voice  of  nature,  which  loudly 
proclaims  the  goodness  as  well  as  the  power  of  the  uni- 
versal Lord.  Man  is  frail  and  imperfect  in  his  original 
constitution.  This,  too,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Scrip- 
tures ;  and  every  man's  experience  unhappily  confirms 
it.  Human  life,  by  the  appointment  of  Providence,  is 
short :  "  He  hath  made  our  days  as  it  were  a  span  long." 
"  Is  it,  then,  to  be  supposed,  that  this  good,  this  mer- 
ciful, this  long-suffering  God,  should  doom  his  frail  im- 
perfect creature  man  to  endless  punishment,  for  the  fol- 
lies,— call  them,  if  you  please,  the  crimes  of  a  short 
life  ?  Is  he  injured  by  our  crimes,  that  he  should  seek 
this  vast  revenge ;  or  does  his  nature  delight  in  groans 
and  lamentations  ? — It  cannot  be  supposed.  What  re- 
velation declares  of  the  future  condition  of  the  wicked, 
is  prophecy ;  luid  prophecy,  we  know  deals  in  poetical 
and  exaggerated  expressions."  Such,  perhaps,  is  the 
language  which  the  sinner  holds  within  himself,  when  he 
is  warned  of  the  wrath  to  come ;  and  such  language  he 
is  taught  to  hold,  in  the  writings  and  the  sermons  of  our 
modern  sectaries.  He  is  taught,  that  the  punishment 
threatened  is  far  more  heavy  than  will  be  executed :  he 
is  told,  that  the  words  which,  in  their  literal  meaning, 
denote  endless  duration,  are,  upon  many  occasions,  in 
Scripture,  as  in  common  speech,  used  figuratively  or 
abusively,  to  denote  very  long  but  yet  definite  periods 
of  time.  These  notions  are  inculcated  in  the  writings, 
not  of  infidels,  but  of  men,  who,  with  all  their  errors, 
must  be  numbered  among  the  friends  and  advocates  of 
virtue  and  religion  ; — but,  Avhilc  we  willingly  bear  wit- 
ness to  their  worth,  we  must  not  the  less  strenuously 
resist  their  dangerous  innovations. 

The  question  concerning  the  eternity  of  punishment 


(     157    ) 

(like  some  others,  which,  considered  merely  as  ques- 
tions of  philosophy,  may  be  of  long  and  difficult  discus- 
sion) might  be  brought  to  a  speedy  determination,  if 
men,  before  they  heat  themselves  with  argument,  would 
impartially  consider  how  far  reason,  in  her  natural 
strength,  may  be  competent  to  the  inquiry,  I  do  not 
mean  to  affirm  generally  that  reason  is  not  a  judge  in 
matters  of  religion :  but  I  do  maintain,  that  there  are 
certain  points  concerning  the  nature  of  the  Deity,  and 
the  schemes  of  Providence,  upon  which  reason  is  dumb 
and  revelation  is  explicit ;  and  that,  in  these  points,  there 
is  no  certain  guide  but  the  plain  obvious  meaning  of  the 
written  word.  The  question  concerning  the  eternal  du- 
ration  of  the  torments  of  the  wicked  is  one  of  these. 
From  any  natural  knowledge  that  we  have  of  the  Divine 
character,  it  never  can  be  proved  that  the  scheme  of 
eternal  pui>ishment  is  unworthy  of  him. 

It  canjHot  be  proved  that  this  scheme  is  inconsistent 
with  his  natural  perfections, — his  essential  goodness. 
What  is  essential  goodness  ? — It  is  usually  defined  by  a 
single  prqperty, — the  love  of  virtue  for  its  own  sake. 
The  definition  is  good,  as  far  as  it  goes ;  but  is  it-  com- 
plete ?  Does  it  comprehend  the  whole  of  the  thing  in- 
tended ? — Perhaps  not.  Virtue  and  vice  are  opposites : 
love  and  hate  are  opposites.  A  consistent  character 
must  bear  opposite  affections  towards  opposite  things. 
To  love  virtue,  therefore,  for  its  own  sake,  and  to  hate 
vice  for  its  own  sake,  may  equally  belong  to  the  cha- 
racter of  essential  goodness ;  and  thus,  as  virtue  in  itself, 
and  for  its  own  sake,  must  be  the  object  of  God's  love 
and  favour,  so,  incurable  vice,  in  itself,  and  for  its  own 
sake,  mat/  be  the  object  of  his  hatred  and  persecution. 

Again,  it  cannot  be  proved  that  the  scheme  of  eternal 
punishment  is  inconsistent  with  the  relative  perfections 
of  the  Deity — with  those  attributes  which  are  displayed 
in  his  dealings  Avith  the  rational  part  of  his  creation :  fov 


(     158    ) 

who  is  he  that  shall  determine  in  what  proportions  the 
attributes  of  justice  and  mercy,  forbearance  and  severity, 
ought  to  be  mixed  up  in  the  character  of  the  Supreme 
Governor  of  the  universe  ? 

Nor  can  it  be  proved  that  eternal  punishment  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  schemes  of  God's  moral  government : 
for  who  can  define  the  extent  of  that  government?  Who 
among  the  sons  of  men  hath  an  exact  understanding  of 
its  ends — a  knowledge  of  its  various  parts,  and  of  their 
mutual  relations  and  dependencies?  Who  is  he  thai 
shall  explain  by  what  motives  the  righteous  are  to  be 
preserved  from  falling  from  their  future  state  of  glory  ? 
— That  they  shall  not  fall,  we  have  the  comfortable  as 
surance  of  God's  word.  But  by  what  means  is  the  se- 
curity of  their  state  to  be  effected  ? — Unquestionably  by 
the  influence  of  moral  motives  upon  the  minds  of  free 
and  rational  agents.  But  who  is  so  enUghtened  as  to 
foresee  what  particular  motives  may  be  the  fittest  for 
the  purpose  ?  Who  can  say,  These  might  be  sufficient, 
— these  are  superfluous  ?  Is  it  impossible^  that,  among 
other  motives,  the  sufferings  of  the  wicked  may  have  a 
salutary  effect?  And  shall  God  spare  the  wicked,  if 
tlie  preservation  of  the  righteous  should  call  for  the  per- 
petual example  of  their  punishment? — Since,  then,  no 
proof  can  be  deduced,  from  any  natural  ki-iowledge  that 
w-e  have  of  God,  that  the  scheme  of  eternal  punishment 
is  unworthy  of  the  Divine  character, — since  there  is  no 
proof  that  it  is  inconsistent  either  with  the  natural  per- 
fections of  God,  or  with  his  relative  attributes, — since  it 
may  be  necessary  to  the  ends  of  his  government,  upon 
what  grounds  do  we  proceed,  when  we  pretend  to  in- 
terpret,  to  qualify,  and  to  extenuate  the  threatenings  of 
holy  writ  ? 

The  original  frailty  of  human  nature,  and  the  provi- 
dential shortness  of  human  life,  are  alleged  to  no  purpose 
1n  this  argument.    Eternal  punishment  is  not  denounced 


C     159    ) 

against  the  frail,  but  against  the  hardened  and  perverse ; 
and  life  is  to  be  esteemed  long  or  short,  not  from  any 
proportion  it  may  bear  to  eternity  (which  would  be 
equally  none  at  all,  though  it  were  protracted  to  ten 
thousand  times  its  ordinary  length),  but  according  as  the 
space  of  it  may  be  more  or  less  than  may  be  just  suffi- 
cient for  the  purposes  of  such  a  state  as  our  present  life 
is,  of  discipline  and  probation.  There  must  be  a  cer- 
tain length  of  time,  the  precise  measure  of  which  can 
be  know^n  to  none  but  God,  within  which,  the  promises 
and  the  threatenings  of  the  gospel,  joined  with  the  ex- 
perience which  every  man's  life  affords  of  God's  power 
and  providence — of  the  instability  and  vanity  of  all 
worldly  enjoyments, — there  must,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
be  a  certain  measure  of  time,  within  which,  if  at  all, 
this  state  of  experience,  joined  with  future  hopes  and 
fears,  must  produce  certain  degrees  of  improvement  in 
moral  wisdom  and  in  virtuous  habit.  If,  in  all  that  time, 
no  effect  is  wrought,  the  impediment  can  only  have 
arisen  from  incurable  self-will  and  obstinacy.  If  the  or- 
dinary period  of  life  be  more  than  is  precisely  sufficient 
for  this  trial  and  cultivation  of  the  character,  those  cha- 
racters which  shall  show  themselves  incorrigibly  bad, 
will  have-  no  claim  upon  the  justice  or  the  goodness  of 
God,'  to  abridge  the  time  of  their  existence  in  misery, 
so  that  it  may  bear  some  certain  proportion  to  the  short 
period  of  their  wicked  lives.  Qualities  are  not  to  be  mea- 
sured by  duration :  they  bear  no  more  relation  to  it  than 
they  do  to  space.  The  hatefulness  of  sin  is  seated  in 
itself— in  its  own  internal  quality  of  evil :  by  tfiat  its  ill- 
deservings  are  to  be  measured, — not  by  the  narrowness 
of  the  limits  either  of  time  or  place,  within  which  the 
good  providence  of  God  hath  confined  its  power  of  doing 
mischief. 

If,  on  any  ground,  it  were  safe  to. indulge  a  hope  that 
the  suffermj?  of  the  wicked  may  have  an  end,  it  would 


(     160    ) 

be  upon  tile  principle  adopted  by  tlie  great  Origen,  and 
by  other  eminent  examples  of  learning  and  piety  which 
our  own  times  have  seen, — that  the  actual  endurance  of 
punishment  in  the  next  life  will  produce  effects  to  which 
the  apprehension  of  it  in  this  had  been  insufficient,  and 
end,  after  a  long  course  of  ages,  in  the  reformation  of 
the  worst  characters.  But  the  principle  that  this  effect  is 
possible— that  the  heart  may  be  reclaimed  by  force,  is 
at  best  precarious ;  and  the  only  safe  principle  of  human 
conduct  is  the  belief,  that  unrepented  sin  will  suffer  end- 
less  punishment  hereafter. 

Perhaps,  the  distance  at  which  imagination  sets  the 
prospect  of  future  punishment,  may  have  a  more  gene- 
ral influence  in  diminishing  the  effect  of  God's  merciful 
warnings,  than  any  sceptical  doubts  about  the  intensity 
or  the  duration  of  the  sufferings  of  the  wicked.  The 
Spirit  of  God  means  to  awaken  us  from  this  delusion, 
when  he  tells  us,  by  the  apostles  and  holy  men  of  old, 
that  the  "  coming  of  the  Lord  draweth  nigh."  He  means, 
by  these  declarations,  to  remind  ever, man  that  his  parti- 
cular doom  is  near :  for,  \\  hatever  may  be  the  season  ap- 
pointed in  the  secret  counsels  of  God,  for  "  that  great 
and  terrible  day,  when  the  heavens  and  the  earth  shall 
flee  from  the  face  of  him  who  shall  be  seatd.  on  the 
throne,  and  their  place  shall  be  no  more  found," — what- 
ever may  be  the  destined  time  of  this  public  catastrophe, 
the  end  of  the  world,  with  respect  to  every  individual, 
t^kes  place  at  the  conclusion  of  his  own  life.  In  the 
grave  there  will  be  no  repentance ;  no  virtues  can  be  ac- 
quired— no  evil  habits  thrown  off.  With  that  character, 
whether  of  virtue  or  vice,  with  which  a  man  leaves  the 
Avorld,  with  that  he  must  appear  before  the  judgment- 
seat  of  Christ,  In  that  moment,  therefore,  in  which  his 
present  life  ends,  every  man's  future  condition  becomes 
irreversibly  determined.  In  this  sense,  to  every  one  that 
standeth  here,  "  the  coming  of  the  Lord  draweth  nigh, — 


(     161    ) 

the  Judge  is  at  the  door;  let  us  watch,  therefore,  aiid 
pray,"— watch  over  ourselves,  and  pray  for  the  succours 
of  God's  grace,  that  we  may  be  able  to  stand  before  the 
Son  of  Man.  Nor  shall  vigilance  and  prayer  be  inef- 
fectual. On  the  incorrigible  and  perverse, — on  those 
who  mock  at  God's  threatenings,  and  reject  his  promises, 
— on  these  only  the  severity  of  wrath  will  fall.  But,  for 
those  who  lay  these  warnings  seriously  to  heart — who 
dread  the  pollutions  of  the  world,  and  flee  from  sin  as 
from  a  serpent-— who  fear  God's  displeasure  more  than 
death,  and  seek  his  favour  more  than  life, — though 
much  of  frailty  will  to  the  last  adhere  to  them,  yet  these 
are  the  objects  of  the  Father's  mercy — of  the  Re- 
deemer's love.  For  these  he  died, — for  these  he  pleads, 
— these  he  supports  and  strengthens  with  his  Spirit, — 
tliese  he  shall  lead  with  him  triumphant  to  the  mansions 
of  glory,  when  Sin  and  Death  shall  be  cast  into  the  lake 
of  fire. 


5S? 


SERMON    XIII. 


Matthew  xvi.  18,  19. 

I  say  also  imto  theCy  that  thou  art  Peter ;  and  upon  this 
rock  I  will  build  my  churchy  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall 
not  prevail  against  it.  And  I  will  give  unto  thee  the 
keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  whatsoever  thou 
shalt  bind  on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven,  and  what- 
soever thou  shalt  loose  on  earth  shall  be  loosed  in  hea- 


IT  is  much  to  be  lamented,  that  the  sense  of  this  im- 
portant text,  in  which  our  Lord  for  the  first  time  makes 
expHcit  mention  of  his  church,  declaring,  in  brief  but 
comprehensive  terms,  the  ground- work  of  the  institution, 
the  high  privileges  of  the  community,  and  its  glorious 
hope, — it  is  much  to  be  lamented,  that  the  sense  of  so 
important  a  text  should  have  been  brought  under  doubt 
and  obscurity,  by  a  variety  of  forced  and  discordant  ex- 
positions, which  prejudice  and  party-spirit  have  pro- 
duced ;  while  writers  in  the  Roman  communion  have  en- 
deavoured to  find  in  this  passage  a  foundation  for  the 
vain  pretensions  of  the  Roman  pontiff,  and  Protestants, 
on  the  other  hand,  have  been  more  solicitous  to  give  it  a 
sense  which  might  elude  those  consequences,  than  at- 
tentive to  its  true  and  interesting  meaning.    It  will  not 


*  Preached  before  the  Soeiuty  for  Uic  Propagation  of  t?ie  Gospel  in  Foreign 
Parts,  February  50.  1 795.    • 


(    163    ) 

be  foreign  to  the  purpose  of  our  present  meeting,  if, 
without  entering  into  a  particular  discussion  of  the  va- 
rious interpretations  that  have  been  offered,  we  take  the 
text  itself  in  hand,  and  try  whether  its  true  meaning 
may  not  still  be  fixed  with  certainty,  by  the  natural 
import  of  the  words  themselves,  without  anj^  other 
comment  than  what  the  occasion  upon  which  they  were 
spoken,  and  certain  occurrences  in  the  first  formation  of 
the  church,  to  which  they  prophetically  allude,  affwd. 

Among  the  divines  of  the  reformed  churches,  espe- 
cially the  Calvinists,  it  hath  been  a  favourite  notion,  that 
St.  Peter  himself  had  no  particular  interest  in  the  pro- 
mises which  seem  in  this  passage  to  be  made  to  him. 
The  words  were  addressed  by  our  Lord  to  St.  Peter, 
upon  the  occasion  of  his  prompt  confession  of  his  faith 
in  Jesus  as  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God ;  and 
this  confession  of  St.  Peter's  was  his  answer  to  a  ques- 
tion which  our  Lord  had  put  to  the  apostles  in  general, 
"  Whom  say  ye  that  I  am  ?" — which  question  had  arisen 
out  of  the  answers  they  returned  to  an  antecedent  ques- 
tion, "  Whom  say  men  that  I  am?" 

Now,  with  respect  to  this  confession  of  St.  Peter's, 
two  of  the  most  learned  and  acute  among  the  commen- 
tators of  antiquity,  St.  Chrysostom  and  St.  Jerome,  so- 
licitous,  as  it  should  seem,^  for  the  general  reputation  of 
the  apostles,  as  if  they  thought,  that,  at  this  early  period, 
no  one  of  them  could  without  blame  he  behind  another 
in  the  fulness  and  the  fervour  of  his  faith ; — from  these, 
or  from  what  motives  it  is  not  easy  to  divine,  these  two 
ancient  commentators  have  taken  upon  them  to  assert 
that  St.  Peter,  upon  this  occasion,  was  but  the  spokes- 
man of  the  company,  and  replied  to  om*  Lord's  ques- 
tion, "  Whom  say  ye  that  I  am?"  in  the  name  of  all. 

Improving  upon  this  hint,  modern  expositors  of  the 
Calvinistic  school  proceed  to  a  conclusion  which  must 
stand  or  fiill  with  the  assumption  upon  Avhich  it  is 


(     164    ) 

founded,  Thry  say,  since  St.  Peter's  confession  of  his 
faith  was  not  his  own  particular  confession,  but  the  ge- 
neral confession  of  the  apostles,  made  by  his  mouth,  the 
blessing  annexed  must  be  eoually  common  to  them  all, 
and  was  pronounced  upon  St.  Peter,  not  individually, 
but  as  the  representative  of  the  twelve ;  insomuch,  that 
whatever  the  privileges  may  be  which  are  described  in 
my  text  as  the  custody  of  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  and  the  authority  to  bind  and  loose  on  earth, 
with  an  effect  that  should  be  ratified  in  heaven, — what- 
ever these  privileges  may  be,  St.  Peter,  according  to 
these  expositors,  is  no  otherwise  interested  in  them 
than  as  an  equal  sharer  with  the  rest  of  the  apostolic 
band. 

But  w^e  may  be  allowed  to  demand  of  these  apt  disci- 
ples of  St.  Chrysostom  and  St.  Jerome,  what  right  they 
can  make  out  for  St.  Peter  to  be  the  spokesman  of  the 
company,  and,  without  any  previous  consultation  with 
his  brethren,  to  come  forward  with  an  answer,  in  the 
name  of  all,  to  a  question  of  such  moment.  What  right 
will  they  pretend  for  St.  Peter  to  tiike  so  much  upon 
him, — unless  they  will  concede  to  him  that  personal  pre- 
cedence ^mong  the  twelve,  which,  however  it  may  be 
evinced  by  many  circumstances  in  the  sacred  history,  it 
is  the  express  purpose  of  their  exposition  to  refute? 
St.  Peter,  it  must  be  confessed,  upon  two  other  occa- 
sions, spoke  in  the  name  of  all.  But,  that  he  so  spake 
upon  those  occasions,  is  not  left  to  be  understood  as  a 
thing  of  course ;  but  it  is  evident  in  the  one  instance, 
by  the  very  words  he  used, — in  the  other,  it  is  re- 
marked by  the  sacred  historian.  In  the  present  case, 
have  we  any  such  evidence  of  the  thing  supposed — any 
indication  of  it  in  the  apostle's  words — any  assertion  of 
the  historian  ? — Quite  the  contrary.  To  our  Lord's  first 
question,  "  Whom  say  men  that  I  am?"  the  answer, 
we  aie  told  indeed,  was  general.    "  They  said — "  say? 


(    165    ) 

the  sacred  historian.  The  question  was  about  a  plaiti 
matter  of  fact,  concerning  which  there  could  not  be 
two  opinions.  To  the  second  question,  "  Whom  say 
ye  that  I  am?"  Simon  Peter  is  mentioned  as  the  person 
who  alone  replied, — as  if,  upon  this  point,  no  one  else 
was  ready  with  an  answer.  "  Simon  Peter  answered 
and  said — ."  Why  is  the  mode  of  narration  changed? 
Why  is  it  not  said  again,  "  They  said  ?"  Why  is  the 
speaker,  and  the  speaker  only,  named  in  the  one  case 
rather  than  in  the  other,  if  the  answer  given  was  equally 
in  both  a  common  answer  ?  Whence  is  it  that  the  two 
other  evangelists  who  have  recorded  this  discourse, 
though  far  less  minute  in  the  detail  of  the  particulars 
than  St.  Matthew,  are  both,  however,  careful  to  name 
St.  Peter  as  the  person  who  replied  to  the  second  ques- 
tion ?  And  whence  ;!>  it  that  not  the  most  distant  hint  of 
any  general  concurrence  of  the  apostles  in  St.  Peter's 
sentiments  is  given  by  any  one  of  these  three  writers? 

Again,  let  the  manner  of  our  Lord's  reply  to  St.  Peter 
be  remarked.  I  would  ask,  in  what  way  any  one  person 
of  a  numerous  company  can  be  more  pointedly  ad- 
dressed,— in  what  way  can  a  discourse  be  more  expressly 
confined  and  limited  to  one,  in  exclusion  of  the  rest, 
than  by  calling  that  one  person  by  his  proper  name,  ad- 
ding to  his  proper  name  his  patronymic,  and  subjoining 
to  that  distinct  compellation  tlicse  express  words,  "  I 
say  unto  thee  ?"  But  diis  was  the  manner  of  our  Lord's 
reply  to  St.  Peter's  confession  of  his  faith.  "  Blessed 
art  thou,  Simon  Bar- Jonah ;  and  I  say  also  unto  thee—." 
Can  it  be  supposed,  that  what  was  thus  particularly  said 
to  Simon,  son  of  Jonah,  was  equally  said  to  another 
Simon,  who  was  not  the  son  of  Jonah — to  James,  the 
son  of  Alpheus — to  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  or  any  other 
persons  present  who  were  not  named  ?  I  ask,  by  what 
other  mode  of  compellation  our  Lord  could  have  more 
distinctly  marked  St.  Peter  as  the  individual  object  of 


(     166     ) 

discourse,  had  he  intended  so  to  mark  him  ?  I  ask,  by 
what  mode  of  compellation  was  St.  Peter  marked  as  the 
individual  object  of  our  Lord's  discourse  upon  another 
occasion,  upon  which  no  man  in  his  senses  ever  doubted 
that  St.  Peter  individually  was  addressed  ? — By  the  same 
mode  of  compellation  which  is  used  here; — he  was 
spoken  to  by  his  name  and  by  his  patronymic.  "  Simon, 
son  of  Jonah,  lovest  thou  me."  Clearly,  therefore,  Peter 
individually  was  upon  tliis  occasion  blessed  by  our 
Lord ; — clearly,  therefore,  the  confession  which  obtained 
the  blessing  was  St.  Peter's  own. 

It  may  perhaps  be  objected,  that  it  is  upon  record  in 
St.  John's  gospel,  that,  upon  another  occasion,  the  self- 
same confession,  in  the  self-same  terms,  was  made  by 
St.  Peter  in  the  name  of  all. — I  answer,  it  was  upon  a 
subsequent  occasion;  when,  it  may  well  be  supposed, 
the  satisfaction  which  our  Lord  upon  this  occasion  had 
expressed  in  St.  Peter's  confession,  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  apostles,  and  had 
brought  them  to  a  general  concurrence  in  St.  Peter's 
sentiments.  But  it  is  particularly  to  be  remarked,  that 
St.  Peter,  upon  this  occasion,  making  a  confession  for 
himself,  as  I  contend,  obtains  a  blessing; — afterwards, 
when  tlie  same  confession  was  made  by  him  in  the  name 
of  all,  no  blessing  follows  it.  The  reason  is  obvious. 
The  blessing  due  to  the  Ji?-st  confession  was  already 
St.  Peter's :  he  had  carried  oft'  the  prize ;  and  the  rest 
of  the  apostles,  more  tardy,  though  not  less  sincere  in 
the  same  faith,  could  have  no  share  of  AA'hat  St.  Peter 
had  made  his  own. 

But  there  is  ytt  another  argument  that  St.  Peter,  upon 
this  occasion,  spake  singly  for  himself;  the  force  of 
which,  however  it  hath  passed  unnoticed,  is  nothing 
short  of  demonstration.  It  is  to  be  drawn  from  those 
Avords  of  our  Lord,  "  I  say  unto  thee,  thou  art  Peter." 
Proper  names,  in  the  Hebrew  language,  were  titles  ra- 


(    167    ) 

ther  than  names — words  expressive  of  some  peculiar 
adjunct  of  the  persons  by  whom  they  were  first  borne. 
This  was  more  particularly  the  case  when  a  person's 
name  was  changed.  The  new  name  was  always  signi- 
ficant, and,  for  the  most  part,  when  given  by  Divine 
authority,  predictive  of  some  peculiarity  in  the  charac- 
ter, the  life,  the  achievements,  or  the  destiny  of  the 
person  on  whom  it  was  imposed.  When  Simon,  son  of 
Jonah,  first  became  a  follower  of  our  Lord,  our  Lord 
gave  him  the  name  of  Cephas,  or  the  rock,  which  passed 
into  the  equivalent  word  of  the  Greek  language,  Petros. 
Our  Lord,  upon  this  occasion  of  his  confession  of  his 
faith,  says  to  him,  "  Thou  art  Peter."  The  like  form 
of  words, — though  the  similarity  appears  not  in  our 
English  Bibles, — but  the  like  form  of  words  was  used 
by  the  patiiarch  Jacob,  as  the  exordium  of  the  blessing 
which  he  pronounced  upon  the  most  distinguished  of 
his  sons.  "  Thou  art  Judah ;  thy  brethren  shall  praise 
thee;" — that  is,  Thou  hast  been  rightly  named  Judah; 
the  name  properly  belongs  to  thee,  because  thou  wilt  be 
what  the  name  imports,  the  object  of  thy  brethren's 
praise.  So,  here,  "  Thou  art  Peter," — that  is.  Thou 
hast  been  properly  so  named;  for  it  now  appears  that 
thou  hast  about  thee  what  tlie  name  imports.  But  how 
was  it  that  this  now  appeared?  Nothing  had  passed 
which  could  discover  any  peculiarity  of  St.  Peter,  unless 
it  was  the  confession  which  he  had  made  of  his  faith  in 
Jesus.  This  confession,  therefore,  was,  by  our  Lord's 
own  judgment,  that  which  evinced  the  singular  propriety 
of  the  name.  But  how  should  this  confession  evince 
the  propriety  of  the  name,  if  the  merit  of  the  confession 
was  not  at  this  time  peculiar  to  St.  Peter?  If  this  con- 
fession contains  the  reason  of  the  name,  and  yet  was  the 
common  confession  of  all  the  apostles,  made  only  by 
St.  Peter's  mouth,  the  inevitable  consequence  will  be, 
ihat  the  name  miglit  have  been  imposed  with  equal  pro- 


(     168    ) 

priety  upon  any  one  of  the  twelve,  Judas  Iscariot  per- 
haps alone  excepted ; — which  is  in  effect  to  say,  that  it 
was  imposed  upon  Simon,  the  son  of  Jonah,  by  the 
omniscient  discerner  of  the  hearts  of  men,  with  no  pro- 
priety at  all. 

Standing  upon  this  firm  ground  of  argument,  we  may 
now  venture  to  assume  a  confident  tone,  nor  scruple  to 
assert,  that  St.  Peter,  upon  this  occasion,  answered  only 
for  himself, — that  the  blessing  he  obtained  was  for  him- 
self singly,  the  reward  of  his  being  foremost  in  the 
faith  which  he  confessed,* — that,  to  be  the  carrier  of 
the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven — to  loose  and  bind 
on  earth,  in  any  sense  in  which  the  expressions  may 
bear  in  this  passage — were  personal  distinctions  of  the 
venerable  primate  of  the  apostolic  college,  appropriated 
to  him  in  positive  and  absolute  exclusion  of  all  other 
persons, — in  exclusion  of  the  apostles,  his  contempora- 
ries, and  of  the  Bishops  of  Rome,  his  successors.  Wc 
need  not  scruple  to  assert,  that  any  interpretation  of  this 
passage,  or  of  any  part  of  it,  founded  upon  a  notion 
that  St.  Peter,  upon  this  occasion,  spake,  or  was  spoken 
to  as  the  representative  of  the  apostles,  is  groundless  and 
erroneous. 

Having  laid  this  foundation,  let  us  now  endeavour  to 
fix  the  sense,  first  of  the  promise  to  St.  Peter,  and,  in 
the  next  place,  of  the  promise  to  the  church. 

The  promise  to  St.  Peter  consists  of  these  two  articles, 
— that  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  should  be 
given  to  him,  and  that  whatsoever  he  should  bind  or 
loose  on  earth  should  be  bound  or  loosed  in  heaven. 


*  Some  sort  of  gcnernl  confession  of  our  Lord  as  Son  of  Gorl,  had  been  made, 
by  diflereiit  persons,  upon  different  occasions,  before  this  of  St.  Peter's, — by 
Nathaniel,  upon  his  very  first  acquaintance  witli  our  Lord, — by  tlie  apostles,  and 
others  peihaps  with  them,  in  the  boat,  ujion  the  hike  of  Gennesaret,  after  the 
storm.  It  is  shown  in  the  sequel,  that  this  last  fell  far  short  of  St.  Peter's;  and 
the  same  remark  would  apply  to  Nathaniel's.  St.  Peter  was  unquesiionably  fore- 
most iu  the  full  distinct  confession  now  made. 


(    169    ) 

The  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  here  promised  to 
St.  Peter,  by  the  principles  we  have  laid  down  for  the 
exposition  of  this  text,  must  be  something  quite  distinct 
from  that  with  which  it  hath  generally  been  confounded 
— the  power  of  the  remission  and  retention  of  sins,  con- 
ferred by  our  Lord,  after  his  resurrection,  upon  the 
apostles  in  general,  and  transmitted  through  them  to  the 
perpetual  succession  of  the  priesthood.  This  is  the  dis- 
cretionary power  lodged  in  the  priesthood  of  dispensing 
the  sacraments,  and  of  granting  to  the  penitent  and  re- 
fusing to  the  obdurate  the  benefit  and  comfort  of  abso- 
lution. The  object  of  this  power  is  the  individual  upon 
whom  it  is  exercised,  according  to  the  particular  circum- 
stances of  each  man's  case.  It  was  exercised  by  the 
apostles  in  many  striking  instances  :  it  is  exercised  now 
by  eveiy  priest,  when  he  administers  or  withholds  the 
sacraments  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper,  or,  upon 
just  grounds,  pronounces  or  refuses  to  pronounce  upon 
an  individual  the  sentence  of  absolution. 

St.  Peter's  custody  of  the  keys  was  quite  another 
thing.  It  was  a  temporary,  not  a  perpetual  authority  ;  its 
object  was  not  individuals,  but  the  whole  human  race. 
The  kingdom  of  heaven  upon  earth  is  the  true  church 
of  God.  It  is  now,  therefore,  the  Christian  church ; — 
formerly  the  Jewish  church  was  that  kingdom.  The 
true  church  is  represented  in  this  text,  as  in  many  pas- 
sages of  holy  writ,  under  the  image  of  a  walled  city,  to  be 
entered  only  at  the  gates.  Under  the  Mosaic  economy 
these  gates  were  shut,  and  particular  persons  only  could 
obtain  admittance, — Israelites  by  birth,  or  by  legal  in- 
corporation. The  locks  of  these  gates  were  the  rites  of 
the  Mosaic  law,  which  obstructed  the  entrance  of  aliens. 
But,  after  our  Lord's  ascension,  and  the  descent  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  the  keys  of  the  city  were  given  to  St.  Peter, 
by  that  vision  which  taught  him,  and  authorised  him  to 
teach  others,  that  all  distmctions  of  one  nation  from  an- 
23 


(     170    ) 

other  were  at  an  end.  By  virtue  of  this  special  com 
mission,  the  great  apostle  applied  the  key,  pushed  back 
the  bolt  of  the  lock,  and  threw  the  gates  of  the  city  open 
lor  the  admission  of  the  whole  Gentile  world,  in  the  in- 
stance of  Cornelius  and  his  family.  To  this,  and  to  this 
only,  our  Lord  prophetically  alludes,  when  he  promises 
to  St.  Peter  the  custody  of  the  keys. 

With  this,  the  second  article  of  the  promise,  the  au- 
thority to  loose  and  bind,  is  closely  connected.  This 
again  being,  by  virtue  of  our  rule  of  interpretation,  pe- 
culiar to  St.  Peter,  must  be  a  distinct  thing  from  the 
perpetual  standing  power  of  discipline,  conveyed  upon 
a  later  occasion  to  the  church  in  general,  in  the  same 
figurative  terms.  St.  Peter  was  the  first  instrument  of 
Providence  in  dissolving  the  obligation  of  the  Mosaic 
law  in  the  ceremonial,  and  of  binding  it  in  the  moral 
part.  The  rescript,  indeed,  for  that  purpose,  was  drawn 
by  St.  James,  and  confirmed  by  the  authority  of  the 
apostles  in  general,  under  the  direction  of  the  Holy 
Ghost ;  but  the  Holy  Ghost  moved  the  apostles  to  this 
great  business  by  the  suggestion  and  the  persuasion  of 
St.  Peter,  as  we  read  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles.  And  this  was  his  particular  and  per- 
sonal commission  to  bind  and  loose. 

I  must  not  quit  this  part  of  my  subject  without  ob- 
serving, that  no  authority  over  the  rest  of  flie  apostles 
was  given  to  St.  Peter,  by  the  promise  made  to  him,  in 
either  or  in  both  its  branches;  nor  was  any  right  con- 
veyed to  him,  which  could  descend  from  him  to  his 
successors  in  any  see.  The  promise  was  indeed  simply 
a  prediction  that  he  would  be  selected  to  be  the  first  in- 
strument in  a  great  work  of  Providence,  which  was  of 
such  a  nature  as  to  be  done  once  for  all;  and,  being 
done,  it  cannot  be  repeated.  The  great  apostle  fulfilled 
his  commission  in  his  lifetime.  He  applied  his  key, — 
he  turned  back  the  lock, — he  loosed  and  he  bound. 


(    171    ) 

The  gates  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  are  thrown  open, 
— the  ceremonial  law  is  abrogated — the  moral  h  con- 
firmed; and  the  successors  of  St.  Peter,  in  the  see  of 
Rome,  can  give  neither  furtherance  nor  obstruction  to 
the  business. 

So  much  for  the  promise  of  St.  Peter.  The  promise 
to  the  church,  which  is  next  to  be  considered,  consists 
likewise  of  two  articles, — that  it  should  be  built  upon  a 
rock ;  and  that,  being  so  built,  the  gates  of  hell  should 
not  prevail  against  it. 

The  first  part  of  the  promise,  that  the  church  should 
be  built  upon  a  rock,  is  contained  in  tiiose  words  of  our 
Lord  to  St.  Peter,  "  I  say  unto  thee,  thou  art  Peter ;  and 
upon  this  rock  (or,  as  the  words  might  be  better  ren- 
dered, '  upon  this  self-same  rock')  I  will  build  my 
church;" — which  may  be  thus  paraphrased:  "Thou 
hast  now  shown  the  propriety  of  the  name  which  I  gave 
thee,  taken  from  a  rock ;  for  thou  hast  about  thee  that 
which  hath  in  it  the  likeness  of  a  rock ;  and  upon  this 
self- same  rocky  thing  I  will  build  my  church."  We 
have  already  seen,  that  the  reason  of  the  name  of  Peter, 
given  to  Simon,  laj'^  in  the  confession  which  he  now 
made.  In  that  confession,  therefore,  we  must  seek  the 
rocky  thing  to  which  the  name  alluded.  Of  all  natural 
substances,  a  rock,  though  not  perhaps  the  most  dense, 
is  certainly  the  most  durable,  the  least  liable  to  internal 
decay,  and  the  least  obnoxious  to  destruction  or  damage 
by  any  external  force;  for  which  reason,  the  sacred 
writers  often  apply  to  rocky  mountains  the  epithet  of 
everlasting.  Hence,  a  rock  is  the  most  apt  image  that 
the  material  world  affords  of  pure  unadulterated  truth, — 
in  its  nature,  than  adamant  more  firm — more  permanent 
— more  insurmountable.  These  things  being  put  toge- 
ther, what  shall  we  find  in  St.  Peter's  confession,  which 
might  be  represented  by  a  rock,  but  the  truth  of  it? 
This,  then,  is  the  rock  upon  which  our  Lord  promises 


(     172    ) 

to  build  his  church, — the  faith  confessed  by  St.  Peter, 
in  a  truth,  firm,  solid,  and  immutable. 

This  being  the  case,  it  will  be  necessary,  for  the  fuller 
explication  of  the  promise,  to  consider  the  extent  and 
the  particulars  of  this  faith  of  St.  Peter's. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  the  apostles  in  general,  upon  a 
certain  occasion,  confessing  a  faith  in  Jesus  as  the  Son 
of  God,  obtained  no  blessing.  I  speak  not  now  of  that 
confession  which  upon  a  subsequent  occasion  was  made 
by  St.  Peter,  in  the  name  of  all ;  but  of  a  confession 
made  before,  by  the  apostles  in  a  body,  for  any  thing 
that  appears,  without  St.  Peter's  intervention.  We  read, 
in  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel,  that 
after  the  storm  upon  the  lake  of  Gennesaret,  which 
ceased  upon  our  Lord's  entering  into  the  vessel,  "  They 
that  were  in  the  ship  came  and  worshipped  him,  saying, 
Of  a  truth  thou  art  the  Son  of  God."  No  blessing  fol- 
lows. Simon  Peter,  some  short  time  after,  confesses, 
in  terms  which  to  an  inattentive  reader  might  seem  but 
equivalent,  and  he  is  blessed.  The  conclusion  is  ine- 
vitable, that  more  was  contained  in  this  confession  of 
St.  Peter's  than  in  the  prior  confession  of  the  aposdes  in 
the  ship, — more,  therefore,  than  in  a  bare  confession  of 
Jesus  as  a  Son  of  God. 

What  that  more  was,  will  easily  be  understood,  if  we 
take  St.  Peter's  answer  in  connection  with  our  Lord's 
question,  paying  a  critical  attention  to  the  terms  of 
both.  Our  Lord  puts  his  first  question  in  these  terms : 
*'  Whom  do  menf  say  that  I,  the  Son  of  Man,  am?" 
Then  he  says,  "Whom  say  ye  that  I  am?"  Simon 
Peter  answers,  "  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God."  Our  Lord,  in  the  terms  of  his  question, 
asserts  of  himself  that  he  is  the  Son  of  Man :  St.  Peter's 
answer,  tlierefore,  connected  with  our  Lord's  question, 
amounts  to  this:  "  Thou,  who  sayest  rightly  of  thyself 
that  thou  art  the  Son  of  Man,  art  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 


(     173     ) 

living  God."  St.  Peter  therefore  asserts  these  tlirec 
things  of  Jesus :  that  he  was  Christ, — that  he  was  the 
Son  of  Man, — and  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God.  The 
Son  of  Man,  and  the  Son  of  God,  are  distinct  titles  of 
the  Messiah.  The  title  of  the  Son  of  Man  belongs  to 
him  as  God  the  Son ; — the  title  of  the  Son  of  God  be^ 
longs  to  him  as  man.  The  former  characterizes  him  as 
that  one  of  the  three  persons  of  the  ever  blessed  Trinity 
which  was  made  man ; — the  other  characterizes  him  as 
that  man  which  was  united  to  the  Godhead.  St.  Peter's 
confession,  therefore,  amounts  to  a  full  acknowledgment 
of  the  great  mystery  of  godliness,  God  manifest  in  the 
fiesh^  to  destroy  tlie  works  of  the  Devil;  and  the  truth 
of  this  faith  is  the  rock  upon  which  Christ  promises  to 
build  his  church. 

Upon  the  second  article  of  the  promise  to  the  church, 
"  that  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it,"  the 
time  compels  me  to  be  brief..  Nor  is  there  need  I 
should  be  long.  In  the  present  state  of  sacred  literature, 
it  were  an  affront  to  this  assembly  to  go  about  to  prove 
that  the  expression  of  "  the  gates  of  hell"  describes  the 
invisible  mansion  of  departed  souls,  with  allusion  to  the 
sepulchres  of  the  Jews  and  other  eastern  nations,  under 
the  image  of  a  place  secured  by  barricadoed  gates, 
through  which  there  is  no  escape,  by  natural  means,  to 
those  who  have  once  been  compelled  to  enter.  Promis- 
ing that  these  gates  shall  not  prevail  against  his  church, 
our  Lord  promises  not  only  perpetuity  to  the  church,  to 
the  last  moment  of  the  world's  existence,  notwithstand- 
ing the  successive  mortality  of  all  its  members  in  all 
ages,  but,  what  is  much  more,  a  final  triumph  over 
the  power  of  the  grave.  Firmly  as  the  gates  of  Hades 
may  be  barred,  they  shall  have  no  power  to  confine  his 
departed  saints,  when  the  last  trump  shall  sound,  and  the 
voice  of  tlie  archangel  shall  thunder  through  the  deep.    .^ 

I  have  now  gone  through  the  exposition  of  my  text. 


f     174    ) 

as  much  at  large  as  the  time  would  allow,  though  more 
briefly  than  the  greatness  of  the  subject  might  deserve. 
To  apply  the  whole  to  the  more  immediate  concerns  of 
this  assembly,  I  shall  conclude  with  two  remarks. 

The  first  is.  That  the  church,  to  which  our  Lord  pro- 
mises stability,  and  a  final  conquest  over  the  power  of 
the  grave,  is  the  building  raised  by  himself,  as  the  mas> 
ter-builder, — that  is,  by  persons  commissioned  by  him, 
acting  under  his  directions,  and  assisted  by  his  Spirit, 
upon  the  solid  rpck  of  the  truth  of  St.  Peter's  faith. 
That  faith  was  a  faith  in  the  Mediatorial  offices  of  Christ, 
in  his  divinity,  and  in  the  mystery  of  the  incarnation. 
Whatever  may  be  raised  by  man  upon  any  other  founda- 
tion, however  it  may  assume  the  name  of  a  church,  is 
no  part  of  Christ's  building,  and  hath  no  interest  in 
these  glorious  promises.  This  deserves  the  serious  at- 
tention of  all  who  in  any  manner  engage  in  the  plantation 
of  churches,  and  the  propagation  of  the  gospel.  By 
those  who  have  the  appointment  of  itinerant  missionaries 
for  the  conversion  of  die  heathen,  it  should  be  particu- 
larly attended  to,  in  the  choice  of  persons  for  so  great 
an  undertaking;  and  it  deserves  the  conscientious  atten- 
tion of  every  such  missionary,  in  the  prosecution  of  his 
work.  Whatever  may  be  the  difficulty  of  giving  a  right 
apprehension  of  the  mysteries  of  our  religion  to  savages, 
whose  minds  have  never  yet  been  raised  to  the  con- 
templation of  any  higher  object  than  the  wants  of  the 
animal  life, — the  difficulty,  great  indeed,  but  not  inse- 
parable to  him  that  worketh  with  us,  must  be  encoun- 
tered, or  the  whole  of  the  missionary's  labour  will  be 
vain.  His  catechumens  are  not  made  Christians,  till 
they  are  brought  to  the  full  confession  of  St.  Peter's 
faith;  nor  hath  he  planted  any  church,  where  he  hath 
not  laid  this  foundation.  For  those  who  presume  to 
build  upon  other  foundations,  their  work  will  perish; 
and  it  will  be  as  by  fire,  if  they  themselves  are  saved. 


(    175    ) 

The  second  remark  I  have  to  make  is  no  less  interest- 
ing to  us.  The  promise  of  perpetual  stability,  in  the 
text,  is  to  the  church  catholic :  it  affords  no  security  to 
any  particular  church,  if  her  faith  or  her  works  should 
not  be  found  perfect  before  God.  The  time  shall  never 
be,  when  a  true  church  of  God  shall  not  be  somewhere 
subsisting  on  the  earth;  but  any  individual  church,  if 
she  fall  from  her  first  love,  may  sink  in  ruins.  Of  this, 
history  furnishes  but  too  abundant  proof,  in  the  examples 
of  churches,  once  illustrious,  planted  by  the  apostles, 
watered  with  the  blood  of  the  first  saints  and  martyrs, 
which  are  now  no  more.  Where  are  now  the  seven 
churches  of  Asia,  whose  praise  is  in  the  Apocalypse? 
Where  shall  we  now  find  the  successors  of  those  earliest 
archbishops,  once  stars  in  the  Son  of  Man's  right  hand  ? 
Where  are  those  boasted  seals  of  Paul's  apostleship, 
the  churches  of  Corinth  and  Philippi  ?  Where  are  the 
churches  of  Jerusalem  and  Alexandria? — But  is  there 
need  that  wc  resort,  for  salutary  warning,  to  the  examples 
of  remote  antiquity?  Alas!  where,  at  this  moment,  is 
the  church  of  France? — her  altars  demolished — her 
treasures  spoiled — her  holy  things  prophaned — her  per- 
secuted clergy,  and  her  plundered  prelates,  wanderers 
on  the  earth !  Let  us  take  warning  by  a  visitation  that 
is  come  so  near  our  doors.  Let  us  not  defraud  ourselves 
of  the  benefit  of  the  dreadful  example,  by  the  miserable 
subterfuge  of  a  rash  judgment  upon  our  neighbours,  and 
an  invidious  comparison  of  their  deservings  with  our 
own.  Let  us  not  place  a  vain  confidence  in  the  purer 
worship,  the  better  discipline,  and  the  sounder  faith, 
which,  for  two  centuries  and  an  half,  we  have  enjoyed. 
These  things  are  not  our  merits :  they  are  God's  gifts ; 
and  the  security  we  may  derive  from  them  will  depend 
upon  the  use  we  make  of  them.  Let  us  not  abate — let 
us  rather  add  to  our  zeal,  for  the  propagation  of  the 
gospel  in  distant  parts ;  but  let  us  not  forget  that  v.e  have 


(    176    ) 

duties  nearer  home.  Let  us  of  the  ministry  give  heed 
to  ourselves  and  to  our  flocks ; — let  us  give  an  anxious 
and  diligent  attention  to  their  spiritual  concerns.  Let  us 
all — but  let  the  younger  clergy  more  especially,  beware 
how  they  become  secularized  in  the  general  cast  and 
fashion  of  their  lives.  Let  them  not  think  it  enough,  to 
maintain  a  certain  frigid  decency  of  character,  abstain- 
ing from  the  gross  scandal  of  open  riot  and  criminal  dis- 
sipation, but  giving  no  farther  attention  to  their  spiritual 
duties  than  may  be  consistent  with  the  pursuits  and 
pleasures  of  the  world,  and  may  not  draw  them  from  a 
fixed  residence  in  populous  cities,  at  a  distance  from 
their  cures,  or  a  wandering  life  in  places  of  public  resort 
and  amusement,  where  they  have  no  call,  and  where  the 
grave  dignified  character  of  a  parish  priest  is  ill  ex- 
changed for  that  of  a  fashionable  trifler.  We  know  the 
charms  of  improved  and  elegant  society.  Its  pleasures 
in  themselves  are  innocent ;  but  they  are  dearly  bought, 
at  the  expense  of  social  and  religious  duty.  If  we  have 
not  firmness  to  resist  the  temptations  they  present,  when 
the  enjoyment  is  not  to  be  obtained  without  deserting 
the  work  of  the  ministry,  in  the  places  to  which  we  are 
severally  appointed,  because  our  lot  may  have  chanced 
to  fall  in  the  retirement  of  a  country  town,  or  perhaps  in 
the  obscurity  of  a  village,  the  time  may  come,  sooner 
than  we  think,  when  it  shall  be  said,  Where  is  now  the 
church  of  England?  Let  us  betimes  take  warning.  *'  As 
many  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten,"  said  our  Lord 
to  the  church  of  Laodicea,  whose  worst  crime  it  was, 
that  she  was  "  neither  hot  nor  cold."  "  Be  zealous, 
therefore,  and  repent.  He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear 
what  the  Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches," 


SERMON    XIV 


1  Corinthians  ii.  2, 

For  I  have  determii^ed  not  to  knoiv  any  thing  among  you. 
save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  criicijied.* 

Among  various  abuses  in  the  Corinthian  church, 
which  this  epistle,  as  appears  from  the  matter  of  it,  was 
intended  to  reform,  a  spirit  of  schism  and  dissension,  to 
which  an  attempt  to  give  a  new  turn  to  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity  had  given  rise,  was  in  itself  the  most  cri- 
minal, and  in  its  consequences  the  most  pernicious. 
Who  the  authors  of  this  evil  were,  is  not  mentioned, 
and  it  were  idle  to  inquire.  They  were  run  after  in  their 
day,  but  their  names  have  been  long  since  forgotten; 
nor  is  any  thing  remembered  of  them,  but  the  mischief 
w^hich  they  did.  The  general  character  of  the  men,  and 
the  complexion  of  their  doctrine,  may  easily  be  col- 
lected from  this  and  the  _subsequent  epistle.  They  were 
persons,  who,  without  authority  from  heaven,  had  taken 
upon  themselves  to  be  preachers  of  the  gospel.  The 
motive  from  which  they  had  engaged  in  a  business  for 
which  they  were  neither  qualified  nor  commissioned, 
was  not  any  genuine  zeal  for  the  propagation  of  the  truth, 
or  any  charitable  desire  to  reclaim  the  profligate,  and  to 
instruct  the  ignorant ;  but  the  love  of  gain — of  power 


*  Preached  in  the  Catlieilrjil  Church  of  Gloucstter,  at  a  Public  Otdination  of 
Priests  and  Deacons 

24 


(    178    ) 

and  applause, — the  desire,  in  short,  of  those  advantages 
which  ever  attend  popularity  in  the  character  of  a  teacher. 
A  scrupulous  adherence  to  the  plain  doctrine  of  the  gos- 
pel had  been  inconsistent  with  these  views,  since  it  could 
only  have  exposed  them  to  persecution.  Whatever, 
therefore,  the  Christian  doctrine  might  contain  offensive 
to  the  prejudice  of  Jew  or  Gentile,  they  endeavoured  to 
clear  away  by  figurative  interpretations,  by  which  they 
pretended  to  bring  to  light  the  hidden  sense  of  mysteri- 
ous expressions,  which  the  first  preachers  had  not  ex- 
plained. While  they  called  themselves  by  the  name  of 
Christ,  they  required  not  that  the  Jew  should  recognize 
the  maker  of  the  world,  the  Jehovah  of  his  fathers,  in 
the  carpenter's  reputed  son ;  nor  would  they  incur  the 
ridicule  of  the  Grecian  schools,  by  maintaining  the  ne- 
cessity of  an  atonement  for  forsaken  and  repented  sins, 
and  by  holding  high  the  efiicacy  of  the  Redeemer's 
sacrifice. 

Such  preaching  was  accompanied  with  no  blessing. 
These  pretended  teachers  could  perform  no  miracles  in 
confirmation  of  their  doctrine :  it  was  supported  only  by 
an  affected  subtlety  of  argument,  and  the  studied  orna- 
ments of  eloquence.  To  these  arts  they  trusted,  to  gain 
credit  for  their  innovations  with  the  multitude.  Not 
that  the  Corinthian  multitude,  more  than  the  multitude 
of  any  other  place,  were  qualified  to  enter  into  abstruse 
questions — to  apprehend  the  force,  or  to  discern  the  fal- 
lacy of  a  long  chain  of  argument — or  to  judge  of  the 
speaker's  eloquence ;  but  they  had  the  art  to  persuade 
the  people  that  they  excelled  in  argument  and  rhetoric. 
They  told  the  people,  that  their  reasoning  was  such  as 
must  convince,  and  their  oratory  such  as  ought  to  charm : 
and  the  silly  people  believed  them,  when  they  bore  wit- 
ness to  themselves.  St.  Paul  they  vilified,  as  a  man  of 
mean  abilities,  who  eidier  had  not  himself  the  penetra- 
tion to  discern  I  know  not  what  hidden  meaning  of  the 


(     179    ) 

revelation  of  which  he  was  the  minister,  or  had  not  the 
talents  of  a  teacher  in  a  sufficient  degree  to  carry  his  dis* 
ciples  any  considerable  lengdi,  and,  through  his  inability, 
had  left  untouched  those  treasures  of  knowledge  which 
they  pretended  to  disclose. 

This  sketch  of  the  characters  of  the  false  teachers  in 
the  Corinthian  church,  and  of  the  sort  of  doctrine  which 
they  taught,  is  the  key  to  the  apostle's  meaning,  in  many 
passages  of  this  epistle,  in  which,  as  in  the  text,  he  may 
seem  to  speak  with  disparagement  of  wisdom,  learning, 
and  eloquence,  as  qualifications  of  little  significance  in 
a  preacher  of  the  gospel,  and  as  instruments  unfit  to  be 
employed  in  the  service  of  divine  truth.  In  all  these 
passages,  a  particular  reference  is  intended  to  the  arro- 
gant pretensions  of  the  false  teachers, — to  their  affected 
learning,  and  counterfeit  wisdom.  It  was  not  that,  in 
the  apostle's  judgment,  there  is  any  real  opposition  be- 
tween  the  truths  of  revelation  and  the  principles  of  rea- 
son— or  that  a  man's  proficiency  in  knowledge  can  be 
in  itself  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  conversion  to  the 
Christian  faith — or  that  an  ignorant  man  can  be  qualified 
to  be  a  teacher  of  the  Christian  religion;  which  are  the 
strange  conclusions  which  ignorance  and  enthusiasm,  in 
these  later  ages,  have  drawn  from  the  apostle's  words : 
but  he  justly  reprobates  the  folly  of  that  pretended  wis- 
dom, which,  instead  of  taking  the  light  of  revelation  for 
its  guide,  would  interpret  the  doctrines  of  revelation  by 
the  previous  discoveries  of  human  reason ;  and  he  cen- 
sures the  ignorance  of  that  learning,  which  imagines  that 
the  nature  of  the  self-existent  Being,  and  the  principles 
of  his  moral  government  of  the  .world,  are  in  such  sort 
the  objects  of  human  knowledge,  as,  like  the  motions 
of  the  planets,  or  the  properties  of  light,  to  be  open 
to  scientific  investigation :  and  he  means  to  express  how 
little  is  the  amount,  and  ho\v  light  the  authority  of  the 
utmost  wisdom  that  may  be  acquired  in  the  schools 


(     180    ) 

of  humaa  learning,  in  comparison  of  that  illumination 
which  was  imparted  to  him  by  the  immediate  influence 
of  the  Divine  Spirit,  the  fountain  of  truth  and  know- 
ledge, on  his  mind. 

That  this  is  the  true  interpretation  of  what  the  aposdc 
says,  or  hath  been  supposed  to  say,  in  disparagement  of 
human  learning,  may  appear  from  this  consideration, — 
We  have,  in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  this  episde,  a  distinct 
enumeration  of  the  extraordinary  gifts  of  the  Spirit, 
which  were  nine,  it  seems,  in  number.  In  a  subsequent 
part  of  the  same  chapter,  we  have  an  enumeration  of 
ecclesiastical  offices, — nine  also  in  ;iumber.  The  nine 
gifts,  and  the  nine  offices,  taken  in  the  order  in  which 
they  are  mentioned,  seem  to  correspond;  the  first  gift 
belonging  to  the  first  office,  the  second  to  the  second, 
and  so  on  :*  only,  it  is  to  be  supposed,  that  as  the  au- 
thority of  all  inferior  offices  is  included  in  the  superior, 
so  the  higher  and  rarer  gifts  contained  the  lower  and 
more  common.  At  tlie  head  of  the  list  of  offices,  as  the 
first  in  authority,  stand  apostles  and  prophets;  by  which 
last  word  are  meant  expounders  of  the  Scriptures; — 
for,  that  the  exposition  of  Scripture  was  the  proper 
office  of  those  who  were  called  prophets  in  the  primitive 
church,  is  a  thing  so  well  understood,  and  so  generally 
acknowledged,  that  any  particular  proof  of  it  upon  the 
present  occasion  may  be  spared.  Corresponding  to  these 
two  offices,  at.  the  head  of  the  catalogue  of  gifts,  stand 
"  the  word  of  wisdom,"  and  "  the  word  of  knowledge." 
The  word  of  wisdom  seems  to  have  been  a  talent  of  ar- 
guing from  the  natural  principles  of  reason,  for  the  con- 
viction and  conversion  of  philosophical  infidels.  This 
was  the  proper  gift  of  the  apostles,  who  were  to  carry 
the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  to  distant  nations,  among 
which  the  light  of  revelation  had  either  never  shone,  or 

•  Vide  Appendix 


(     181     ) 

had  at  least  for  ages  been  extinguished.  The  word  of 
knowledge  was  the  talent  of  holding  learned  arguments 
from  the  ancient  prophecies,  and  other  writings  of  the 
Old  Testament,  to  silence  the  objections  of  Jewish  ad- 
versaries, and  to  demonstrate  the  consistency  of  the 
gospel  with  former  revelations.  This  was  the  proper 
gift  of  those  who  were  appointed  to  expound  the  Scrip- 
lures  in  congregations  of  the  faithful,  once  formed  by 
the  preaching  of  the  apostles.  These  persons,  by  the 
way,  bore  the  name  of  prophets,  because  their  office  in 
the  church  stood  in  the  same  relation  to  the  office  of  the 
apostles,  as  that  of  the  prophets  under  the  law  to  the 
office  of  Moses.  The  Jewish  prophets  were  only  guar- 
dians and  expounders  of  the  law  prescribed  by  Moses, 
and  of  the  revelation  which  he  published.  The  prophets 
in  the  primitive  church  were  not  the  publishers  of  the 
gospel,  but  expounders  of  what  the  apostles  had  pre- 
viously taught.  The  apostolic  gift,  the  word  of  wisdom, 
consisted,  it  should  seem,  in  an  intuitive  knowledge  of 
philosophic  truth,  and  an  insight  into  the  harmony  of 
the  faith  which  the  apostles  taught,  with  what  are  called 
the  principles  of  natural  rehgion.  The  prophetic  gift, 
the  word  of  knowledge,  consisted  in  a  prompt  recollec- 
tion of  all  parts  of  the  sacred  writings,  and  an  insight 
into  the  harmony  of  the  different  revelations.  It  pleased 
God  to  commit  the  first  preaching  of  the  gospel  to  men 
whose  former  occupations  and  conditions  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  excluded  them  from  the  pursuits  and  the 
attainments  of  learning,  and  from  the  advantages  of  edu- 
cation, "  that  the  excellency  of  the  power  might  be  of 
God — not  of  them."  But  it  is  evident,  that  these  gifts, 
with  which  he  was  pleased  to  adorn  the  two  first  offices 
in  the  Christian  church,  were  to  those  first  preachers  in- 
stead of  education :  for  the  qualities  of  a  penetrating 
judgment  in  abstruse  questions,  and  a  ready  recollection 
of  written  knowledge,  which  the  first  preachers  enjoyed 


f    182    ) 

by  the  immediate  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  are  in 
kind  the  very  same,  which  men,  to  whom  this  superna- 
tural assistance  is  denied,  may,  with  God's  blessing,  ac- 
quire in  a  less  degree,  by  long  and  diligent  study.  These 
talents  existed  unquestionably  in  the  minds  of  the  first 
inspired  preachers,  in  a  degree  in  which  by  the  mere  in- 
dustry of  study  they  cannot  be  attained.  The  apostles 
were,  by  infinite  degrees,  the  best  informed  of  all  phi- 
losophers; and  the  prophets  of  the  primitive  church 
were  the  soundest  of  all  divines :  but  yet  the  light  of 
inspiration  and  the  light  of  learning,  however  different 
in  degree,  as  the  difference  indeed  is  inexpressible,  are, 
nevertlieless,  the  same  in  kind ;  for  reason  is  reason,  and 
knowledge  is  knowledge,  in  whatever  manner  they  may 
be  produced, — the  degree  of  more  and  less  being  the 
only  difference  of  which  the  things  are  capable.  As  the 
w^ord  of  wisdom,  therefore,  and  the  word  of  knowledge, 
were  to  the  first  preachers  instead  of  learning,  so  in  these 
later  ages,  when  the  Spirit  no  longer  imparts  his  extra- 
ordinary gifts,  learning  is  instead  of  them. 

The  importance,  and  the  necessity  of  it,  to  a  Chris- 
tian  preacher,  evidently  appears  from  God's  miraculous 
interposition,  in  the  first  ages,  to  infuse  learning  into  the 
minds  of  those  who  by  education  were  unlearned ;  for, 
if  the  attainments  of  learning  were  of  no  importance  to 
the  true  and  effectual  preaching  of  the  gospel,  to  what 
purpose  did  that  God  who  commanded  the  light  to 
spring  out'  of  darkness,  by  an  exertion  of  the  same  al- 
mighty power,  light  up  the  lamp  of  knowledge  in  the 
minds  of  uneducated  men  ?  The  reason  of  this  extra- 
ordinary interposition,  in  the  early  ages,  was,  that,  for 
die  first  promulgation  of  the  gospel,  no  abilities  to  be 
acquired  by  education  were  sufficient  for  the  teacher's 
office:  and  the  reason  that  this  extraordinary  interposi- 
tion hath  long  since  ceased,  is,  that  Christianity  having 
once  taken  root  in  the  world,  those  inferior  abilities. 


(     183     ) 

which  may  be  attained  by  a  diligent  improvement  oi  our 
natural  talents,  are  now  sufficient  for  its  support.  But 
in  all  ages,  if  the  objections  of  infidels  are  to  be  confuted, 
— if  the  scruples  of  believers  themselves  are  to  be  sa- 
tisfied,— if  Moses  and  the  prophets  are  to  be  brought 
to  bear  witness  to  Jesus  of  Nazareth, — if  the  calumnies 
of  the  blaspheming  Jews  are  to  be  repelled,  and  their 
misinterpretations  of  their  own  books  confuted, — if  we 
are  to  be  "  ready,"  that  is,  if  we  are  to  be  qualified  and 
prepared  "  to  give  an  answer  to  every  man  that  asketh 
us  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  us," — a  penetration  in 
abstruse  questions — a  quickness  in  philosophical  discus- 
sion— a  critical  knowledge  of  the  ancient  languages — a 
familiar  acquaintance  with  the  Jewish  history,  and  with 
all  parts  of  the  sacred  writings — a  sound  judgment,  a 
faithful  memory,  and  a  prompt  elocution — are  talents 
without  which  the  work  of  an  evangelist  will  be  but  ill 
performed.  When  they  are  not  infused  by  inspiration, 
they  must  be  acquired  by  diligence  in  study,  and  fer- 
vency in  prayer.  And  if  any  in  the  present  age  imagine, 
that,  wanting  the  advantages  of  education,  they  may  be 
qualified  for  preachers  of  the  gospel,  they  are  to  be  con- 
sidered as  enthusiasts,  unless,  like  the  apostles,  they  can 
appeal  to  a  confirmation  of  their  word  by  "  signs  and 
wonders  following."  Inspiration  is  the  only  means  by 
which  they  may  be  qualified  for  the  business  in  which 
they  presume  to  meddle;  and  of  a  real  inspiration,  the 
power  of  miracles  is  the  proper  sign  and  inseparable  con- 
comitant. 

It  is  the  usual  plea  of  these  deluded  men,  when  they 
would  assert  their  sufficiency,  while  they  confess  their 
ignorance,  that,  however  deficient  they  may  be  in  other 
knowledge,  tliey  know  Christ.  And  God  forbid,  that, 
in  a  country  professing  Christ's  religion,  Christ  should 
not  be  known  by  every  one,  in  the  degree  neressari^  to 


(     184     ) 

his  own  salvation, — that  any  one  should  not  so  know 
Christ,  as  to  have  a  right  apprehension  of  the  necessary 
articles  of  the  Christian  faith — right  notions  of  his  duty 
to  God,  and  to  his  neighbour — a  stedfast  foith  in  God's 
promises  through  Christ — such  views,  in  short,  of  the 
Christian  doctrine,  as  may  give  it  its  full  effect  upon  his 
heart  and  practice.  This  knowledge  of  Christ,  the  most 
illiterate  hath,  or  ought  to  have,  in  a  Christian  country ; 
and  he  who  hath  it  not  is  culpable  in  his  ignorance.  But 
this  knowledge,  without  which  no  one's  condition  is  se- 
cure, is  not  that  which  may  authorize  the  private  Chris- 
tian to  assume  the  office  of  a  public  teacher. 

It  may  indeed  be  made  a  question,  whether  any  degree 
of  knowledge  may  justify  the  officious  interference  of  an 
individual,  of  his  own  pure  motion,  in  a  business  of  such 
serious  concern  to  the  community ;  for,  if  it  be  allowed 
in  any  society,  that  mere  ability  constitutes  a  right  to  act 
in  any  particular  capacity,  the  consequence  will  be,  that 
every  man  will  be  justified  in  the  usuriDation  of  any  office 
in  the  state,  by  his  own  opinion  of  his  own  sufficiency. 
The  extravagance  and  the  danger  of  this  principle,  ap- 
plied in  the  civil  departments,  would  be  readily  per- 
ceived. A  man  who,  from  a  conceit  of  his  own  abilities, 
should  take  upon  him  to  play  the  magistrate,  the  general, 
or  the  pri\'y  counsellor,  ^\■ithout  a  commission  regularly 
obtained  from  the  source  of  civil  power,  would  soon  be 
shut  up  in  some  proper  place,  where  he  might  act  his 
fooleries  in  secret,  without  harm  to  his  neighbour,  or 
public  discredit  to  himself.  The  reason  that  the  extra- 
vagance and  danger  of  the  same  principle  is  not  equally 
perceived,  when  it  is  applied  in  the  ecclesiastical  polity, 
and  that  disturbers  of  the  ecclesiastical  constitution  are 
sufllred  to  go  loose,  while  other  madmen  are  confined, 
is  only  this, — that  the  interests  of  the  church  are  not  so 
seriously  considered  as  those  of  the  state,  because  its 


(     185     ) 

good  government  and  its  disorders  come  not  so  inune- 
diately  home  to  the  particular  interests  of  each  member 
of  the  community. 

I  mean  not,  however,  at  present  to  enter  into  the  ques. 
tion,  what  more  than  mere  sufficiency  may  be  requisite 
to  give  a  man  authority  to  set  up  as  a  pubUc  teacher  of 
what  he  really  knows,  or  how  far  the  rights  of  a  com- 
mission  actually  existing  may  be  infringed  by  the  laic's 
ievasion  of  the  preacher's  chair.  When  it  is  considered, 
that  not  fewer  than  nine  different  ecclesiastical  offices, 
distinguished  by  their  different  gifts,'appear  to  have  been 
subsisting  at  Corinth  when  this  epistle  was  written,  and 
that,  by  the  consent  of  the  most  learned  in  ecclesiastical 
chronology,  this  epistle  was  written  so  early  as  the  57th 
year  of  our  Lord,  it  should  seem,  that  the  formation  of 
a  church—the  constitution  of  an  hierarchy,  composed 
of  different  orders,  which  orders  were  appointed  to  dis- 
tinct  duties,  and  invested  with  distinct  rights,  was  a  thing 
of  so  great  antiquity,  as  may  leave  no  doubt  remaining 
with  any  reasonable  man  of  the  divine  authority  of  the 
institution. 

But  what  I  at  present  insist  upon  is  this, — that  that 
knowledge  of  Christ,  by  which  a  man  may  be  qualified 
to  bear  the  office  of  a  teacher,  cannot  be  separated  from 
other  branches  of  knowledge,  to  which  uneducated  men 
can  in  these  days  make  no  pretensions.  I  contend  that 
it  never  was  separated :  for  the  word  of  wisdom,  and  the 
word  of  knowledge,  in  the  apostles  and  primitive  pro- 
phets, consisted  not  in  a  knowledge  of  revelation  o?ilt/r 
but,  as  their  writings  testify,  in  a  general  comprehension, 
of  all  that  other  men  acquire  in  a  less  degree  by  educa- 
tion,— in  those  branches  at  least  of  human  knowledge 
which  are  connected  with  theology  and  morals. 

They  were,  perhaps,  not  knowing  in  the  details  of 
natural  philosophy :  for  the  argument  for  the  being  and 
the  pro^'idence  of  God,  from  the  visible  order  and  har- 
25 


(     186    ) 

mony  of  the  universe,  is  the  same,  by  whatever  laws  its 
motions  may  be  carried  on.  They  were  not  physicians 
or  anatomists :  because  they  had  the  power  of  curing 
diseases  and  healing  wounds  without  medicine  or  art. 
But  they  were  profound  metaphysicians — the  best  of 
moralists — well-informed  historians — accurate  logicians 
, and  excellent  in  that  strain  of  eloquence  which  is  cal- 
culated for  the  conveyance  of  instruction,  the  enforce- 
ment of  duty,  the  dissuasion  of  vice,  the  conviction  of 
enor,  and  the  defence  of  truth.  And  whoever  pretends 
to  teach  without  any  of  these  qualifications,  hath  no 
countenance  from  the  example  of  the  apostles,  who  pos- 
sessed them  all  in  an  eminent  degree,  not  from  educa- 
rion,  but  from  a  higher  source. 

St.  Paul,  indeed,  says  of  himself,  that  when  he  first 
preached  the  gospel  to  the  Corinthians,  "  he  came  not 
unto  them  with  excellency  of  speech,  or  of  wisdom ;" 
—that  is,  he  came  not,  like  the  false  teachers,  making 
an  ostentatious  display  of  studied  eloquence,  nor  boast- 
ing his  proficiency  in  philosophy :  he  required  not  that 
the  Corinthians  should  receive  the  testimony  of  God, 
which  he  delivered  to  them  as  the  testimony  of  God, 
because  he  who  delivered  it  was  a  knowing  man,  or  an 
accomplished  orator  :  he  rested  not  the  evidence  of  his 
doctrine  upon  mere  argument,  nor  did  he  think  to  per- 
suade by  mere  eloquence ;  for  argument  alone,  although 
it  might  indeed  evince  the  consistency  and  reasonable- 
ness of  the  doctrine,  could  never  amount  to  a  proof  of 
its  heavenly  origin ;  and  the  apostles  had  means  of  per- 
suasion more  powerful  than  eloquence,  which  by  the 
way,  no  modern  teacher  hath :  his  knowledge  and  elo- 
quence, however  necessary,  were  still  in  him  but  se- 
condary qualifications ;  and  so  little  was  he  ambitious  of 
ihe  fame  of  learning,  that  he  determined  not  "  to  know 
arty  thing  among  them,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  cru- 
cified." 


(    187    ) 

But  consider  what  this  knowledge  of  the  apobde  really 
contained.  "  To  know  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified," 
was  to  know, — not  simply  to  believe,  but  to  know  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  be  able  to  teach  others,  that  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  was  the  Messiah  announced  by  the  propliets 
from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  and  to  understand  thai 
the  sufferings  of  the  Messiah  were  the  means  appointed 
by  God  for  man's  deliverance  from  sin  and  damnation. 
This  knowledge,  therefore,  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  him 
crucified,  to  which  St.  Paul  laid  claim,  contained  an 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  ancient  prophecies — a  clear 
apprehension  of  their  necessary  reference  to  the  Messiah 

a  discernment  of  their  exact  completion  in  the  person 

of  Jesus — and  an  insight  into  that  great  mystery  of  god- 
liness, the  expiation  of  the  actual  sins  of  men,  and  the 
cleansing  of  man's  sinful  nature,  by  the  shedding  of  the 
blood  of  Christ. 

And  who  is  sufficient  for  these  things?  That  no  study 
can  attain  this  knowledge  of  Christ,  in  the  degree  in 
which  die  apostles  possessed  it,  he  who  confesses  not, 
hath  studied  Christ  to  little  purpose.  But  he  who  ima- 
gines that  Christ  may  thus  be  known  by  men  uninformed 
both  by  inspiration  and  education,  or  imagines  that, 
when  inspiration  is  wanting,  education  may  contribute 
nothing  at  all  in  aid  of  the  deficiency,— that  is,  to  make 
my  meaning  very  plain,  he  who  imagines  that,  of  unin- 
spired men,  the  learned  and  the  unlearned  are  equally 
qualified  to  be  teachers  of  the  word  of  God, — he  who 
builds  this  extravagant  opinion  upon  the  terms  in  which 
the  aposde  speaks  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  as  the 
only  knowledge  to  which  he  himself  made  pretensions, 
only  proves,  that  more  learning  is  necessary  than  he  is 
aware  of  to  the  right  apprehension  of  this  single  text. 

Inferences  naturally  flow  from  the  doctrine  which  hath 
been  asserted,  of  high  concern  to  every  one  in  this  as- 
sembly.   We,  who,  with  however  weak  ability,  fill  the 


(     188    ) 

high  station  of  the  prophets  in  tlie  primitive  church,— 
you,  who  are  this  day  to  be  admitted  to  a  share  in  that 
sacred  office,  are  admonished  of  the  dihgence  with  which 
we  must  devote  ourseh  cs  to  study,  and  of  the  assiduity 
which  we  must  use  in  prayer,  to  acquit  ourselves  of  the 
duties  of  our  caUing.  The  laity  are  admonished  of  the 
folly  and  the  danger  of  deserting  the  ministry  of  those  who 
have  been  rightly  separated  to  that  holy  service,  in  the 
vain  hope  of  edifying  under  their  instruction,  who  can- 
not be  absolved  of  the  crime  of  schism  upon  any  better 
plea  than  that  of  ignorance.  To  allege  the  apostles  as  in- 
stances of  illiterate  preachers,  is  of  all  fallacies  the  gross- 
est. Originally,  perhaps,  they  were  men  of  little  learning 
—fishermen — tent-makers— excisemen ;  but  when  they 
began  to  preach,  they  no  longer  were  illiterate ;  they  were 
rendered  learned  in  an  instant,  without  previous  study  of 
their  own,  by  miracle.  The  gifts,  which  we  find  placed 
by  an  apostle  himself  at  the  head  of  their  qualifications, 
were  evidently  analogous  to  the  advantages  of  education. 
Whatever  their  previous  character  had  been,  the  apost- 
tles,  when  they  became  preachers,  became  learned.  They 
were  of  all  preachers  the  most  learned.  It  is,  therefore, 
by  proficiency  in  learning,  accompanied  with  an  unre- 
served submission  of  the  understanding  to  the  revealed 
word, — but  it  is  by  learning,  not  by  the  want  or  the  ne- 
glect of  it,  that  any  modern  teacher  may  attain  to  some 
distant  resemblance  of  those  inspired  messengers  of  God. 


APPENDIX  TO  SERMON  XFV 


1  Corinthians  xii.  8,  9,  10. 

The  word  of  wisdom, — the  talent  of  arguing,  from  the 
natural  principles  of  reason,  for  the  conversion  of  philo- 
sophical infidels.  The  ivord  of  knowledge, — the  talent 
of  holding  learned  arguments  from  the  ancient  prophe- 
cies, and  the  writings  of  the  Old  Testament,  for  the 
conversion  of  Jewish  infidels.  Faith, — a  depth  and  ac- 
curacy of  understanding,  in  the  general  scheme  of  the 
Christian  revelation,  for  the  improvement  and  edification 
of  believers.  The  gifts  of  healing,  and  the  working  of 
?niracles, — for  the  purpose  of  making  new  converts,  and 
displaying  the  extent  of  the  power  of  Christ.  Prophecy, 
or  the  talent  of  foreseeing  future  events, — for  the  pur- 
pose of  providing  against  the  calamities,  whether  worldly 
or  spiritual,  that  might  threaten  particular  churches, — 
such  as  famines,  pestilence,  wars,  persecutions,  heresies. 
Discerning  of  spirits, — for  the  better  government  of  the 
church;  and  the  gift  of  tongues,  and  the  interpretation  of 
to?igiies,  which  seem  to  have  been  very  generally  dis- 
persed,— that  every  Christian  might  be  qualified  to  argue 
with  the  learned  Jews  in  the  synagogues,  from  the  origi- 
nal Scriptures,  especially  when  the  Jew  thought  proper 
to  appeal  from  the  Greek  of  the  Septuagint  to  the  He- 
brew text. 

In  these  very  remarkable  passages,  the  apostle  reckons 
up  nine  distinct  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  all  of  the  extra- 
ordinary kind.     In  the  28th  verse,  he  enumerates  just 


(    190    ) 

as  many  ecclesiastical  offices.  The  gifts  and  the  offices, 
taken  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  mentioned,  seem  to 
correspond. 

GIFTS.  OFFICES. 

1.  The  word  of  wisdom,  Apostles. 

/■  Prophets,  i.  e.  expounders  of  the 

2.  The  word  of  knowledge,  J      Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testa- 

V     ment. 

3.  Faith,  Teachers  of  Christianity. 

4.  Miracles,  Workers  of  miracles. 

5.  Healing,  Healers. 

6.  Prophecies,  or  predictions,  I    ^fPr"^:^'""^"^'    «"^\^^ 

(,  Mark,  Tychicus,  Onesimus,&c. 

7.  Dircerning  of  Spirits,  Governments — Kv^e^v)i<ret?. 

8.  Tongues,  \  Gifted  with  tongues  in  various 

9.  Interpretation  of  tongues,  )      ways. 

The  fourth  and  fifth  gifts,  miracles  and  healing,  seem 
to  have  changed  places  in  the  9th  and  10th  verses.  Mi- 
racles, I  think,  must  take  place  as  the  genus,  and  healing 
must  rank  below  it,  as  the  species.  Accordingly,  in  the 
28th  verse,  miracles,  or  powers,  are  mentioned  before 
healings.  With  this  slight  alteration,  the  list  of  gifts  in 
the  8th,  9th  and  10th  verses,  seems  to  answer  exactly 
to  the  list  of  offices  in  the  28th :  only,  it  is  to  be  sup- 
posed, that  as  all  inferior  offices  are  included  in  the  su- 
perior, so  all  the  higher  and  rarer  gifts  contain  the  lower 
and  more  common. 

Dr.  Lightfoot,  if  I  mistake  not,  hath  remarked  this 
parallelism  of  gifts  and  offices,  in  his  NoriC  Hebraic^. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


SERMONS, 


SAMUEL    HORSLEY, 

LL.D.  F.R.S.  F.A.S. 


LORD  BISHOP  OF  ST.  ASAPH. 


VOL.  II. 


PRINTED  AND  SOLD  BY  T.  AND  J.  SWORDS, 

No.  160  Pearl-Street. 

1811. 


-4 


.1 


SERMON    XV, 


2  Peter  i.  20,  21. 


Knowing  this  firsts  that  no  prophecy  of  the  Scripture  U 
of  any  private  interpretation.  For  the  prophecy  came 
not  in  old  time — or,  as  it  is  in  the  margin — "  came  not 
at  any  time''^ — by  the  will  of  man;  but  holy  men  of 
God  spake  as  they  xvere  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 


In  the  verse  which  immediately  precedes  my  text,  the 
apostle  mentions  a  "  sure  word  of  prophecy,"  which  he 
earnestly  commends  to  the  attention  of  the  faithful. 
This  word  of  prophecy,  I  conceive,  is  to  be  understood, 
not  of  that  particular  word  of  the  psalmist,*  nor  of  that 
other  of  Isaiah,!  to  which  the  voice  uttered  from  heaven 
at  the  baptism,  and  repeated  from  the  shechinah  at  the 
transfiguration,  hath  by  many  been  supposed  to  allude;— 
not  of  either  of  these,  nor  of  any  other  particular  pre- 
diction, is  St.  Peter's  prophetic  word,  in  my  judgment, 
to  be  understood ;  but  of  the  entire  volume  of  the  pi-o- 
phetic  writings — of  the  whole  body  of  the  prophecies 
which  were  extant  in  the  Christian  Church,  at  the  time 
when  the  apostle  wrote  this  second  epistle.  You  are  aU, 
I  doubt  not,  too  well  acquainted  with  your  Bibles,  to  be 
told  by  me,  that  this  epistle  was  written  at  no  long  inter- 
val of  time  before  the  blessed  aposde^s  martyrdom.  He 
tells  you  so  himself,  in  the  fourteenth  verse  of  this  first 


Psslm  ii.  7.  t  l8«'a^  ^'">  *• 

26 


(   4  ; 

ciiapici-.  The  near  prospect  of  putting  off  his  mortal 
tabernacle,  was  the  occasion  of  his  composing  this  epis- 
tle, which  is  to  be  considered  as  his  dying  charge  to  the 
church  of  God.  Now,  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Peter  took 
place  in  Nero's  persecution,  when  his  fellow-labourer 
St.  Paul  had  been  already  taken  off.  St.  Paul,  therefore, 
we  may  reasonably  suppose,  Avas  dead  before  St.  Peter 
wTote  this  epistle,  which,  hy  necessary  consequence, 
must  have  been  of  later  date  than  any  of  ^.  Paul's. 
Again,  three  of  the  four  gospels,  St.  Matthew's,  St. 
Mark's,  and  St.  Luke's,  were  all  published  some  years 
before  St.  Peter's  death ;  for  St.  Luke's,  which  is  be- 
yond all  controversy  the  latest  of  the  three,  was  writtenr 
about  the  time  when  St.  Paul  was  released  from  his  first 
imprisonment  at  Rome.  It  appears  from  these  circum- 
stances, that  our  Saviour's  prophecy  of  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem  and  his  last  advent,  which  is  recited  in  the 
gospels  of  the  three  first  evangelists,  and  St.  Paul's  pre- 
dictions of  Antichrist,  the  dreadful  corruptions  of  the 
latter  times,  and  the  final  restoration  of  the  Jewish  peo- 
ple, delivered  in  various  parts  of  his  epistles,  must  have 
been  current  among  Christians  at  the  time  when  thi? 
second  epistle  of  St.  Peter  was  composed.  These  pro- 
phecies, therefore,  of  the  Christian  Church,  together 
with  the  prophetic  writings  of  the  Old  Testament,  the 
books  of  the  Jewish  prophets,  the  book  of  Psalms,  and 
tlic  more  ancient  oracles  preserved  in  the  books  of  Mo- 
ses, make  up  that  system  of  prophecy  which  is  called 
by  the  apostle  "  the  prophetic  word,"  to  which,  as  it 
were,  with  his  last  breath,  he  gives  it  in  charge  to  the 
true  believer  to  give  heed.  If  I  seem  to  exclude  the 
book  of  the  Apocalypse  from  that  body  of  prophecy 
which  I  suppose  the  apostle's  injunction  to  regard,  it  is 
not  tkit  I  entertain  the  least  doubt  about  the  authenticity 
or  authority  of  that  book,  or  that  I  esteem  it  less  deserv- 
ing of  attention  than  the  rest  of  the  prophetic  writings ; 


(     5    ) 

but  for  this  reason,  that,  not  being  written  till  many 
years  after  St.  Peter's  death,  it  cannot  be  understood  to 
make  a  part  of  the  writings  to  which  he  alludes.  How- 
ever, since  the  sentiments  delivered  by  St.  Peter  are  to 
be  understood  to  be  the  mind  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which 
inspired  him, — since  the  injunction  is  general,  prescrib- 
ing what  is  the  duty  of  Christians  in  all  ages,  no  less 
than  of  those  \\\\o  were  the  contemporaries  of  the  apos> 
tie, — since  the  Apocalypse,  though  not  then  written,  was 
nevertheless  an  object  of  the  Spirit's  prescience,  as  a 
book  which,  in  no  distant  time,  was  to  become  a  part 
of  the  oracular  code,  we  will,  if  you  please,  amend  our 
exposition  of  the  apostle's  phrase :  we  will  include  the 
Apocalypse  in  the  word  of  prophecy ;  and  "^ve  will  say 
that  the  whole  body  of  the  prophecies,  contained  in  the 
inspired  books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  is  that 
to  which  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  the  admonition  which  he 
dictated  to  St.  Peter,  requires  all  who  look  for  salvation 
to  give  heed,  "  as  to  a  lamp  shining  in  a  dark  place;" — 
a  discovery  from  heaven  of  the  schemes  of  Providence, 
which,  however  imperfect,  is  yet  sufficient  for  the  com- 
fort and  support  of  good  men,  under  all  the  discourage- 
ments of  the  present  life;  as  it  furnishes  a  demonstration 
— not  of  equal  evidence,  indeed,  with  that  which  the 
final  catastrophe  will  afford,  but  a  certain  demonstration 
— a  demonstration  drawn  from  fact  and  experience,  ris- 
ing in  evidence  as  the  ages  of  the  world  roll  on,  and,  in 
every  stage  of  it,  sufficient  for  the  passing  generation  of 
mankind,  "  that  the  Most  High  ruleth  in  the  kingdoms 
of  the  earth," — that  his  providence  directeth  all  events 
for  the  final  happiness  of  the  virtuous, — that  "  there  is  a 
reward  for  the  righteous, — that  there  is  a  God  who  will 
judge  the  earth."  In  all  the  great  events  of  the  world, 
especially  in  those  which  more  immediately  concern  the 
true  religion  and  the  church,  the  first  Christians  saw,  and 
we  of  these  ages  see,  the  extended  arm  of  Providence 


j^m- 


(     6     ) 

by  the  lamp  of  the  prophetic  word,  Avhich  justly,  tiiere- 
fore,  claims  the  heedful  attention  of  every  Christian,  in 
every  age,  "  till  the  morning  dawn,  and  the  day-star 
arise  in  our  hearts," — till  the  destined  period  shall  arrive, 
for  that  clearer  knowledge  of  the  Almighty,  and  of  his 
ways,  which  seems  to  be  promised  to  the  last  ages  of 
the  church,  and  will  terminate  in  that  full  understanding 
of  the  justice,  equity,  and  mercy  of  God's  dealings  with 
mankind,  which  will  make  a  chief  part  of  the  happiness 
of  the  righteous  in  the  future  life,  and  seems  to  be  de- 
scribed in  Scripture  under  the  strong  metaphor  of  seeing 
the  incorporeal  God. 

This  is  the  sum  of  tlie  verse  which  precedes  my  text. 
It  is  an  earnest  exhortation  to  all  Christians  to  give  atten- 
tion to  the  prophecies  of  holy  writ,  as  what  will  best  ob- 
viate all  doubts  that  might  shake  their  faith,  and  prevent 
their  minds  from  being  unsettled  by  those  difficulties 
which  the  evil  heart  of  unbelief  will  ever  find  in  the  pre- 
sent  moral  constitution,  according  to  those  imperfect 
views  of  it  which  the  light  of  nature  bj'^  itself  affords. 

But  to  what  purpose  shall  we  give  attention  to  pro- 
phecy, unless  we  may  hope  to  understand  it?  And 
where  is  the  Christian  who  is  not  ready  to  say,  with  the 
treasurer  of  the  Ethiopian  Queen,  "  How  can  I  under- 
stand, except  some  man  shall  guide  me  ?"  The  Ethiopian 
found  a  man  appointed  and  impowered  to  guide  him : 
but  in  these  days,  when  the  miraculous  gifts  of  the  Spirit 
are  withholden,  where  is  the  man  who  hath  the  authority 
or  the  ability  to  be  another's  guide  ? — Truly,  vain  is  the 
help  of  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils ;  but,  blessed 
be  God,  he  hath  not  left  us  without  aid.  Our  help  is  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord.  To  his  exhortation  to  the  study 
of  prophecy,  the  inspired  apostle,  apprized  of  our  neces- 
sities, hath,  in  the  first  of  the  two  verses  which  I  have 
chosen  for  my  text,  annexed  an  infallible  rule  to  guide 
plain  men  in  the  interpretation  of  prophecy ;  and  in  the 


(     7    ). 

latter  verse,  he  explains  upon  what  principle  this  rule 
is  founded. 

Obsei've  me :  I  say  the  apostle  gives  you  an  infallible 
rule  of  interpretation.  I  do  not  tell  you  that  he  refers 
you  to  any  infallible  interpreter;  which  perverse  mean- 
ing, the  divines  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  for  purposes 
which  I  forbear  to  mention,  have  endeavoured  to  fasten 
upon  this  text.  The  claim  of  infallibility,  or  even  of 
authority  to  prescribe  magisterially  to  the  opinions  and 
the  consciences  of  men,  whether  in  an  individual  or  in  as 
semblies  and  collections  of  men,  is  never  to  be  admitted- 
Admitted,  said  I  ? — it  is  not  to  be  heard  with  patience, 
unless  it  be  supported  by  a  miracle :  and  this  very  text  of 
Scripture  is  manifesdy,  of  all  others,  the  most  adverse 
to  the  arrogant  pretensions  of  the  Roman  pontiff.  Had 
it  been  the  intention  of  God,  that  Christians,  after  the 
death  of  the  apostles,  should  take  the  sense  of  Scripture, 
in  all  obscure  and  doubtful  passages,  from  the  mouth  of 
an  infallible  interpreter,  whose  decisions,  in  all  points  of 
doctrine,  faith,  and  practice,  should  be  oracular  and  final, 
this  was  the  occasion  for  the  apostle  to  have  mentioned 
it — to  have  told  us  plainly  whither  we  should  resort  for 
the  unerring  explication  of  those  prophecies,  which,  it 
seems,  so  well  deserve  to  be  studied  and  understood. 
And  from  St.  Peter,  in  particular,  of  all  the  apostles, 
this  information  was  in  all  reason  to  be  expected,  if,  as 
the  vain  tradition  goes,  the  oracular  gift  was  to  be  lodged 
with  his  successors.  This,  too,  w^as  the  time  when  the 
mention  of  the  thing  was  most  likely. to  occur  to  thr 
apostle's  thoughts;  when  he  was  about  to  be  remove' 
from  the  superintendence  of  the  church,  and  was  com 
posing  an  epistle  for  the  direction  of  the  flock  which  h( 
so  faithfully  had  fed,  after  his  departure.  Yet  St.  Peter, 
at  this  critical  season,  when  his  mind  was  filled  with  an 
interested  care  for  the  welfare  of  the  Church  after  his 
-ilecease,  upon  an  occasion  which  might  naturally  lead 


f     8     ) 

•liini  to  mention  all  means  of  instruction  that  were  likely 
to  be  provided, — in  these  circumstances,  St.  Peter  gives 
not  the  most  distant  intimation  of  a  living  oracle  to  be 
perpetually  maintained  in  the  succession  of  the  Roman 
Bishops.  On  the  contrary,  he  overthrows  their  aspiring 
claims,  by  doing  that  which  supersedes  the  supposed  ne- 
cessity of  any  such  institution :  he  lays  down  a  plain  rule, 
which,  judiciously  applied,  may  enable  every  private 
Christian  to  interpret  the  written  oracles  of  prophecy,  in 
all  points  of  general  importance,  for  himself. 

The  rule  is  contained  in  this  maxim,  which  the  apos- 
tle propounds  as  a  leading  principle,  of  which,  in  read- 
ing the  prophecies,  we  never  should  lose  sight,  "  That 
no  prophecy  of  Scripture  is  of  any  private  interpreta- 
tion.^'' "  Knowing  this  first,"  says  he,  *'  that  no  prophecy 
of  the  Scripture  is  of  any  private  ifiterpretation.^^  And 
the  reason  is  this, — that  the  predictions  of  the  prophets 
did  not,  like  their  own  private  thoughts  and  sentiments, 
originate  in  their  own  minds.  The  prophets,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  their  office,  were  necessary  agents,  acting  under 
the  irresistible  impulse  of  the  Omniscient  Spirit,  who 
made  the  faculties  and  the  organs  of  those  holy  men  his 
own  instruments  for  conveying  to  mankind  some  por- 
tion of  the  treasures  of  his  own  knowledge.  Futurity 
seems  to  have  been  delineated  in  some  sort  of  emblem- 
atical picture,  presented  by  the  Spirit  of  God  to  the  pro- 
phet's mind,  which,  preternaturally  filled  and  heated 
with  this  scenery,  in  describing  the  images  obtruded  on 
the  phantasy,  gave  patlietic  utterance  to  wisdom  not  its 
own.  "  For  the  prophecy  came  not  at  any  time  by  the 
^vill  of  man ;  but  holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they  were 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Some  one,  perhaps,  will  be  apt  to  say,  "  It  had  been 
well  if  the  apostle  had  delivered  his  rule  for  the  explica- 
tion of  prophecy,  as  clearly  as  he  hath  expressed  what 
he  allegeth  as  the  principle  from  which  liis  rule  is  de- 


(      9     ) 

rived.  This  principle  is  indeed  propounded  with  the 
utmost  perspicuity :  but  how  this  principle  leads  to  the 
maxim  which  is  drawn  from  it,  or  what  the  true  sense 
of  that  maxim  may  be,  or  how  it  may  be  applied  as  a 
rule  of  interpretation,  may  not  appear  so  obvious.  It 
may  seem  that  the  apostle  hadi  rather  told  us  negatively 
how  the  prophecies  jnat/  not,  than  affirmatively  how  they 
may  be  interpreted:  and  since,  in  most  cases,  error  is 
infinite,  and  truth  single,  it  may  be  presumed  that  in- 
numerable modes  of  interpretation  will  mislead,  while 
one  only  will  carry  us  to  the  true  sense  of  the  prophe- 
cies; and  surely  it  had  been  more  to  the  purpose,  to 
point  out  that  single  true  path,  than  to  guard  us  against 
one  out  of  a  great  number  of  deviations.  Nor,  it  may 
be  said,  is  this  erroneous  path,  which  we  are  admonished 
to  avoid,  very  intelligibly  defined.  Private  interpreta- 
tion, it  seems,  is  that  which  is  never  to  be  applied.  But 
what  is  private  interpretation  ?  Is  it  the  interpretation  of 
the  private  Christian  ?  Is  it  forbidden  that  any  private 
member  of  the  Church  should  endeavour  to  ascertain 
the  sense  of  any  text  of  prophecy  for  himself? — The 
prohibition  would  imply,  that  there  must  be  somewhere, 
either  in  some  great  officer  of  the  Church,  or  in  assem^ 
blies  of  her  presbyters  and  bishops,  an  authority  of  pub- 
lic interpretation, — of  which  the  contrary  seems  to  have 
been  proved  from  this  very  passage," 

It  must  be  confessed,  that  all  this  obscurity  and  inco- 
herence appears  in  the  first  face  of  the  passage,  as  it  is 
expressed  in  our  English  Bibles.  The  truth  is,  that  the 
English  word  private  does  but  very  darkly,  if  at  all,  con  • 
vey  to  the  understanding  of  the  English  reader  the  ori- 
ginal word  to  which  it  is  meant  that  it  should  answer. 
The  original  word  denotes  that  peculiar  appropriation  of 
the  thing  with  which  it  is  joined,  to  something  else  pre- 
viously mentioned,  which  is  expressed  in  English  by  the 
word  own.  subjoined  to  the  pronouns  of  possession :  Ou?- 


(     10     ) 

own  power — kis  oxvn  blood-— a  prophet  ol  their  oxun.  In 
all  these  places,  the  Greek  woixi  which  is  rendered  by 
the  words  our  oxvn — his  own^— their  own,  is  that  same 
word  which  in  this  text  is  rendered  by  the  word  private. 
The  precise  meaning,  therefore,  of  the  original,  may  be 
thus  expressed :  "  Not  any  prophecy  of  Scripture  is  of 
self-interpretation.'''  This  compound  word,  "  self-inter- 
pretation," contains  the  exact  and  full  meaning  of  the  two 
Greek  words  which  our  translators  have  rendered  by 
"  private  interpretation,"  and  with  which  no  two  sepa- 
rate words  can  be  found  in  our  language  exactly  to  cor- 
respond. The  meaning  is  just  the  same  as  might  be 
thus  expressed :  "  Not  any  prophecy  of  Scripture  is  its 
own  interpreter."  It  is  in  this  sense  that  the  passage  is 
rendered  in  the  French  Bible  of  the  Church  of  Geneva ; 
and,  what  is  of  much  importance  to  observe,  it  is  so 
rendered  in  the  Latin  translation  called  the  Vulgate, 
wliich  the  church  of  Rome  upholds  as  the  unerring  stand- 
ard of  the  sacred  text. 

This,  then,  is  the  rule  of  interpretation  prescribed  by 
the  apostle,  in- my  text:  and  though  it  is  propounded  in 
u  negative  form,  and  may  therefore  seem  only  to  exclude 
an  improper  method  of  interpretation,  it  contains,  as  I 
shall  presently  explain  to  you,  a  very  clear  and  positive 
definition  of  the  only  method  to  be  used  with  any  cer- 
tainty of  success. 

The  maxim  is  to  be  applied,  both  to  every  single  text 
of  prophecy,  and  to  the  whole. 

Of  any  sir»gle  text  of  prophecy,  it  is  true  that  it  can- 
not be  its  own  interpreter ;  for  this  reason, — because  the 
Scripture  prophecies  are  not  detached  predictions  of  se- 
parate independent  events,  but  are  united  in  a  regular 
and  entire  system,  all  terminating  in  one  great  object — 
the  promulgation  of  the  gospel,  and  the  complete  esta- 
blishment of  the  Messiah's  kingdom.  Of  this  system, 
e\'eTy  particular  prophecy  makes  a  part,  and  bears  a 


(  11  ) 

more  immediate  or  a  more  remote  relation  to  that  which 
is  the  object  of  the  whole.  It  is  therefore  very  imlikely, 
that  the  true  signification  of  any  particular  text  of  pro- 
phecy should  be  discovered  from  the  bare  attention  to 
the  terms  of  the  single  prediction,  taken  by  itself,  with- 
out considering  it  as  a  part  of  that  system  to  which  it 
unquestionably  belongs,  and  without  observing  how  it 
may  stand  connected  with  earlier  and  later  prophecies, 
especially  with  those  which  might  more  immediately 
precede  or  more  immediately  follow  it. 

Again,  of  the  whole  of  the  Scripture  prophecies,  it  is 
true  that  it  cannot  be  its  own  interpreter.  Its  meaning 
never  can  be  discovered,  without  a  general  knowledge  of 
the  principal  events  to  which  it  alludes;  for  prophecy 
was  not  given  to  enable  curious  men  to  pry  into  futurity, 
but  to  enable  the  serious  and  considerate  to  discern  in 
past  events  the  hand  of  Providence. 

Thus  you  see,  the  apostle,  while  he  seems  only  to 
guard  against  a  manner  of  interpretation  which  would 
perpetually  mislead,  in  effect  directs  us  to  that  which 
will  seldom  fail.  Every  particular  prophecy  is  to  be  re- 
ferred to  the  system,  and  to  be  understood  in  that  sense 
which  may  most  aptly  connect  it  with  the  whole ;  and 
the  sense  of  prophecy  in  general  is  to  be  sought  in  the 
events  which  have  actually  taken  place, — the  history  of 
mankind,  especially  in  the  article  of  their  religious  im- 
provement, being  the  public  infallible  interpreter  of  the 
oracles  of  God. 

I  shall  now  proceed,  in  this,  and  some  other  dis- 
courses, to  explain  these  rules  somewhat  more  distincdy, 
— to  illustrate  the  use  of  them  by  examples  of  their  ap- 
plication,— and  to  show  you  how  naturally  they  arise 
out  of  thiit  principle  which  is  alleged  by  the  apostle  as 
their  foundation,  and  how  utterly  they  overthrow  the 
most  formidable  objection  that  the  adversaries  of  our 
holy  faith  have  ever  been  able  to  producfi  against  that 


(     12    ) 

particular  evidence  of  our  Lord's  pretensions  which  the 
completion  of  the  Scripture  prophecies  affords. 

In  the  first  place,  for  the  more  distinct  explication  of 
the  aposde's  maxim,  nothing,  I  conceive,  is  requisite, 
but  to  mark  the  limits  within  which  the  meaning  of  it 
is  to  be  restrained. 

And,  first,  the  subject  of  the  apostle's  negative  pro- 
position, prophecy. — Under  this  name  is  not  to  be  in- 
cluded every  thing  that  might  be  uttered  by  a  prophet, 
even  under  the  Divine  impulse ;  but  the  word  is  to  be 
taken  strictly  for  that  which  was  the  highest  part  of  the 
prophetic  office- — the  prediction  of  the  events  of  distant 
ages.  The  prophets  spake  under  the  influence  of  the 
Spirit,  upon  various  occasions,  when  they  had  no  such 
predictions  to  deliver.  They  were,  in  the  Jewish  church, 
the  ordinary  preachers  of  righteousness ;  and  their  lessons 
of  morality  and  religion,  though  often  conveyed  in  the 
figured  strains  of  poetry,  were  abundantly  perspicuous. 
They  were  occasionally  sent  to  advise  public  measures, 
in  certain  critical  situations  of  the  Jewish  state.  Some- 
times they  gave  warning  of  impending  judgments,  or 
notice  of  approaching  mercies;  and  sometimes  they 
were  employed  to  rebuke  the  vices  and  to  declare  the 
destiny  of  individuals.  What  they  had  to  utter  upon 
these  occasions  had  sometimes,  perhaps,  no  immediate 
connection  with  prophecy,  properly  so  called ;  and  the 
mind  of  the  prophet  seems  to  have  been  very  differently 
affected  with  these  subjects,  and  with  the  visions  of  fu- 
turity. The  counsel  he  was  to  give,  or  the  event  he  was 
to  announce,  were  presented  naked,  without  the  disguise 
of  imagery,  to  his  thoughts,  and  he  gave  it  utterance  in 
perspicuous  phrases,  that  carried  a  definite  and  obvious 
meaning.  There  are  even  predictions,  and  those  of  very 
remote  events,  and  those  events  of  the  highest  moment, 
which  are  not  properly  to  be  called  prophecies.  Such 
'•—-  *'^ose  declarations  of  tlie  future  conditions  of  the 


(   13  ; 

righteous  and  the  wicked,  which  make  a  principal 
branch  of  general  revelation,  and  are  propounded  in  such 
clear  terms,  that  none  can  be  at  a  loss  to  apprehend  the 
general  purport. of  them.  These  are,  indeed,  predic- 
tions, because  the  events  which  they  declare  are  future ; 
yet  they  do  not  seem  to  answer  to  the  notion  of  pro- 
phecy, in  the  general  acceptation  of  the  word.  What 
then,  you  will  ask  me,  is  the  distinction  between  these 
discoveries  of  general  revelation  and  prophecy,  properly 
so  called? — The  distillation,  I  think,  is  this:  An  ex- 
plicit declaration  of  the  final  geneml  event  of  things, 
and  of  whatever  else  may  be  the  immediate  effect  of  the 
will  and  power  of  the  First  Cause,  or  the  purport  of 
any  original  decree  of  God,  is  revelation.  Prophecy  is 
a  disguised  detail  of  those  intermediate  and  subordinate 
events  which  are  brought  about  by  the  regular  operation 
of  second  causes,  and  are  in  part  dependent  upon  man's 
free  agency.  Predictions  of  these  events  are  prophecies, 
in  the  proper  meaning  of  the  word ;  and,  of  these  pro- 
phecies alone,  St.  Peter's  maxim,  "  that  no  prophecy  is 
its  own  interpreter,"  is  to  be  understood. 

Again,  the  word  "  interpretation"  is  not  to  be  under- 
stood without  much  restriction.  Interpretation,  in  the 
largest  sense,  consists  of  various  branches,  the  greater 
part  of  which  it  were  absurd  to  include  in  the  negation 
of  the  text.  Such  are  all  gramn^atical  interpretations  of 
an  author's  language,  and  logical  elucidations  of  the 
scope,  composition,  and  coherence  of  his  argument. 
Such  interpretations  may  be  necessary  for  prophecies, 
in  common  with  every  other  kind  of  writings;  and  the 
general  rules  by  which  they  must  proceed  are  the  same 
in  all :  but  the  interpretation  of  which  the  apostle  speaks 
is  that  which  is  peculiar  to  prophecy;  and  it  consists  in 
ascertaining  the  events  to  which  predictions  allude,  and 
in  showing  the  agreement  between  the  images  of  the 
prediction,  and  the  particulars  of  the  history ;  and  tbjs 


(     14    ) 

particular  sort  of  interpretation,  distinct  ironi  any  other, 
is  expressed  by  that  word  which  we  find  in  this  place  in 
the  original  text  of  the  apostle.  The  original  word  hath 
not  the  extensive  signification  of  the  English  word,  "  in- 
terpretation," but  it  is  the  specific  name  of  that  sort  of 
exposition  which  renders  the  mystic  sense  of  parables, 
dreams,  and  prophecies. 

Having  thus  defined  in  what  sense  the  aposde  uses  the 
word  "  prophecies,"  and  what  that  particular  sort  of  in- 
terpret^ion  is,  which,  he  says,  no  prophecy  can  furnish 
for  itself,  his  maxim  is  reduced  to  a  perspicuous  propo- 
sition, too  evident  to  need  farther  proof  or  explication. 
Of  prophecies,  in  the  strict  acceptation  of  the  word, — 
that  is,  of  disguised  predictions  of  those  events  which 
are  brought  about  by  the  intervention  of  second  causes, 
and  do  in  great  part  dei-end  upon  the  free  agency  of  man, 
— of  such  predictions,  the  apostle  affirms  that  the  mystic 
interpretation — that  interpretation  which  consists  in  as- 
certaining the  events  with  which  the  predictions  corrres- 
pond — is  never  to  be  drawn  from  the  prophecy  itself. 
It  is  not  to  be  struck  out  by  any  process  of  criticism 
applied  to  the  words  in  which  a  prediction  is  conceived ; 
— it  is  not  to  be  so  struck  out,  because,  without  a  know- 
ledge of  the  event  foretold,  as  well  as  a  right  understand- 
ing of  the  terms  of  the  prediction,  the  agreement  be- 
tween them  cannot  be  perceived.  And,  among  different 
events  which  may  sometimes  seem  prefigured  by  the 
same  prophetic  images,  those  are  always  to  be  esteemed 
the  true  completions,  which  being  most  connected  with 
the  main  object  of  prophecy,  may  most  aptly  connect 
any  particular  prediction  with  the  system. 

It  is  of  importance,  however,  that  I  show  you,  that 
the  apostle's  maxim,  in  the  sense  in  which  I  would  teach 
you  to  understand  it,  arises  naturally  from  the  principle 
which  he  alleges  as  the  foundation  of  it, — that  the  origin 
of  prophecy,  its  coming  from  God,  is  a  reason  why  it 


(     15     ) 

^should  not  be  capable  of  self-interpretation :  for,  if  1 
should  not  be  able  to  make  out  this  connection,  you 
would  do  wisely  to  reject  the  whole  of  my  interpreta- 
tion ;  since  it  is  by  infinite  degrees  more  credible  that 
error  should  be  in  my  exposition,  than  incoherence  in 
the  apostle's  discourse. 

But  the  connection,  if  I  mistake  not,  is  not  difficult  to 
be  made  out :  for,  since  the  prophecies,  though  delivered 
by  various  persons,  were  dictated  to  all  by  one  and  the 
same  Omniscient  Spirit,  the  different  books,  and  the 
scattered  passages  of  prophecy,  are  not  to  be  considered 
as  the  works  or  the  sayings  of  different  men,  treating  a 
variety  of  subjects,  or  delivering  various  and  contradic- 
tory opinions  upon  the  same  subject;  but  as  parts  of  an 
entire  work  of  a  single  author — of  an  author,  who,  hav- 
ing a  perfect  comprehension  of  the  subject  which  he 
treats,  and  at  all  times  equally  enjoying  the  perfection  of 
his  intellect,  cannot  but  be  always  in  harmony  with  him- 
self. We  find,  in  the  writings  of  a  man  of  any  depth  of 
understanding,  such  relation  and  connection  of  the  parts 
of  any  entire  work — such  order  and  continuity  of  the 
thoughts — such  consequence  and  concatenation  of  argu- 
ments,— in  a  word,  such  unity  of  the  whole,  which,  at 
the  same  time  that  it  gives  perspicuity  to  every  part, 
when  its  relation  to  the  whole  is  known,  will  render  it 
difficult,  and  in  many  cases  impossible,  to  discover  the 
sense  of  any  single  period,  taken  at  a  venture  from  the 
first  place  where  the  book  may  chance  to  open,  without 
any  general  apprehension  of  the  subject,  or  of  the  scope 
of  the  particular  argument  to  which  the  sentence  may 
belong.  How  much  more  perfect,  is  it  reasonable  to 
believe,  must  be  the  harmony  and  concert  of  parts — 
how  much  closer  the  union  of  the  thoughts — how  much 
more  orderly  the  arrangement — how  much  less  unbroken 
the  consequence  of  argument,  in  a  work  which  hath  for 
its  real  author  that  Omniscient  Mind  to  which  the  uni- 


(    16    ) 

verse  is  ever  present,  in  one  unvaried  undivided  thought  J 
— the  universe,  I  say, — that  is,  the  entire  comprehen- 
sion of  the  visible  and  intelligible  world,  with  its  inefFa* 
ble  variety  of  mortal  and  immortal  natures — of  sub- 
stances,  accidents,  qualities,  relations,  present,  past  and 
future! — that  Mind,  in  which  all  science,  truth,  and 
knowledge,  is  summed  and  compacted  in  one  vast  idea! 
How  absurb  were  the  imagination,  that  harmony  and 
system,  while  they  reign  in  the  works  of  men,  are  not 
to  be  looked  for  in  the  instruction  which  this  great 
Mind  hath  delivered,  in  separate  parcels  indeed,  by  the 
diiferent  instruments  which  it  hath  at  different  times  em- 
ployed ;  or  that  any  detached  part  of  his  sacred  volume 
may  be  safely  expounded,  without  reference  to  the 
whole ! — The  Divine  knowledge  is  indeed  too  excellent 
for  man,  and  could  not  otherwise  be  imparted  to  him 
than  in  scraps  and  fragments :  but  these  are  then  only 
understood,  when  the  human  mind,  by  just  and  dex- 
trous combinations,  is  able  to  restore  them,  in  some 
imperfect  degree,  to  the  shadow  and  the  semblance  at 
least  of  that  simplicity  and  unity  in  which  all  truth  ori- 
ginally  exists  in  the  self- furnished  intellect  of  God. 

But,  farther.  As  there  cannot  but  be  harmony  and 
connection  in  the  knowledge  and  the  thoughts  of  God, 
so  there  cannot  but  be  unity  and  consistency  of  design 
in  all  his  communications  with  mankind.  The  end,  in- 
deed, of  all  that  extraordinary  intercourse  which  the 
great  God  who  made  heaven  and  earth  hath  vouchsafed 
to  hold  with  the  inhabitants  of  this  Ioa;  er  Avorld,  is  the 
moral  improvement  of  the  human  character — the  im- 
provement of  man's  heart  and  understanding,  by  the 
establishment  and  propagation  of  tlie  Cliristian  religion. 
All  instruction  from  heaven,  of  ^vhich  the  prophecies 
make  a  part,  is  direct  to  this  end.  All  the  promises 
given  to  the  patriarchs — the  whole  typical  service  of  the. 
hv.' — the  succession  of  the  Jeuish  prophets,-— all  thesr; 


(     17    ) 

things  were  means  employed  by  God  to  prepare  the 
world  for  the  revelation  of  his  Son ;  and  the  later  pro- 
phecies of  our  Lord  himself,  and  his  inspired  apostles, 
are  still  means  of  the  same  kind  for  the  farther  advance- 
ment of  the  same  great  design, — to  spread  that  divine 
teacher's  doctrine,  and  to  give  it  full  effect  upon  the 
hearts  of  the  faithful.  The  great  object,  therefore,  of 
the  whole  word  of  prophecy,  is  the  Messiah  and  his 
kingdom ;  and  it  divides  itself  into  two  general  branches, 
as  it  regards  either  the  first  coming  of  the  Messiah,  or 
the  various  fortunes  of  his  doctrine  and  his  church,  until 
his  second  coming.  With  this  object,  every  prophecy 
hath  immediate  or  remote  connection.  Not  but  that  in 
many  predictions,  in  many  large  portions  of  the  pro- 
phetic word,  the  Messiah  and  the  events  of  his  kingdom 
are  not  immediatelj^  brought  in  view  as  the  principal  ob- 
jects ;  yet  in  none  of  tlie  Scripture  prophecies  are  those 
objects  set  wholly  out  of  sight,  inasmuch  as  the  secular 
events  to  which  many  parts  of  prophecy  relate,  will  be 
found,  upon  a  close  inspection,  to  be  such  as  either  in 
earlier  times  afiected  the  fortunes  of  the  Jewish  people, 
or  in  later  ages  the  state  of  Christendom,  and  were  of 
considerable  effect  upon  the  propagation  of  the  true  re- 
ligion, either  as  they  promoted  or  as  they  obstructed  it- 
Thus,  we  have  predictions  of  the  fall  of  the  old  Assyrian 
empire,  and  the  desolation  of  Nineveh,  its  capital, — of  the 
destruction  of  Tyre,  and  the  ravages  of  Nebuchadnezzar 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Palestine, — of  the  overthrow 
of  the  Babylonian  empire,  by  Cyrus — of  the  Persian, 
by  Alexander, — of  the  division  of  the  eastern  world, 
after  the  death  of  Alexander,  among  his  captains, — of 
the  long  wars  between  the  rival  kingdoms  of  Syria  and 
Egypt, — of  the  intestine  quarrels  and  court  intrigues  of 
those  two  kingdoms, — of  the  propagation  of  Mahomet's 
imposture, — of  the  decline  of  the  Roman  empire, — of  the 
rise  and  cTov>-th  of  the  p^i?.]  tyrnr.ny  and  superstiti©n. 


(     18     ) 

Such  events  as  these  became  the  subject  of  prophecy, 
because  their  consequences  touched  the  state  of  the  true 
religion ;  and  yet  they  were  of  a  kind  in  which,  if  in 
any,  the  thoughtless  and  inconsiderate  would  be  apt  to 
question  the  control  of  Providence.  Read  the  histories 
of  these  great  revolutions :  you  will  find  they  were  ef- 
fected by  what  you  might  the  least  guess  to  be  the  in- 
struments of  Providence, — by  the  restless  ambition  of 
princes, — by  the  intrigues  of  wicked  statesmen,-:r-by  the 
treachery  of  false  sycophants, — by  the  mad  passions  of 
abandoned  or  of  capricious  women, — by  the  phrenzy  of 
enthusiasts, — by  the  craft  of  hypocrites.  But,  although 
God  hath  indeed  no  need  of  the  wicked  man,  yet  his  wis- 
dom and  his  mercy  find  frequent  use  for  him,  and  render 
even  his  vices  subservient  to  the  benevolent  purposes  of 
Providence.  The  evidence  of  a  vigilant  providence  thus 
mercifully  exerted,  arises  from  the  prediction  of  those 
events,  which,  while  they  result  from  the  worst  crimes 
of  men,  do  yet  in  their  consequences  affect  the  state  of 
religion  and  the  condition  of  the  virtuous.  If  such 
events  lay  out  of  the  control  of  God's  providence,  they 
could  not  fall  within  the  comprehension  of  his  pre- 
science :  but,  what  God  hath  predicted,  he  foreknew, — 
what  he  foreknew,  he  predetermined, — what  God  hath 
predetermined — whatever  bad  action  he  permits  to  be 
done,  must  no  less  certainly,  though  less  immediately 
than  the  good  actions  which  he  approves,  operate,  by  the 
direction  of  his  universal  providence,  to  the  final  benefit 
.>r  the  virtuous.  This  comfortable  assurance,  therefore, 
"  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
tiod,"  is  derived  from  propliecy,  especially  from  those 
parts  of  prophecy  whic'.i  predict  those  crimes  of  men  by 
which  the  interests  of  religion  are  affected;  and,  to  afford, 
this  comfort  to  the  godh',  such  crimes  are  made  the  sub- 
ject of  the  sacred  oracles. 

Thus  you  see,  that,  in  all  prophecy,  the  state  of  re- 


(     19    ) 

ligion  is  the  object,  and  the  interests  of  religion  ai-e  the 
end.  Hence  it  is,  that  as  a  man,  whose  mind"  is  bent 
upon  the  accomplishment  of  some  great  design,  will  be 
apt,  upon  every  occasion  of  discourse,  to  introduce  al- 
lusions to  that  which  is  ever  uppermost  in  his  thoughts^ 
and  nearest  to  his  heart,  so  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God, 
when  he  moved  his  prophets  to  speak  of  the  alHiirs  of 
this  low  world,  was  perpetually  suggesting  allusions  to 
the  great  design  of  Providence,  the  uniting  of  all  things 
under  Christ.  And  whoever  would  edify  by  the  pro- 
phetic word,  must  keep  this  great  object  constantly  in 
view,  that  he  may  be  ready  to  catch  at  transient  hints 
and  oblique  insinuations,  which  often  occur  where  they 
might  be  the  least  expected. 

Nor  is  an  active  attention  to  die  events  of  the  world 
less  necessar>%  That  prophecy  should  fetch  its  interpre- 
tation from  the  events  of  history,  is  a  necessary  conse- 
quence of  its  divine  original :  it  is  a  part  of  the  contri- 
vance, and  a  part  without  which  prophecy  would  have 
been  so  little  beneficial — rather,  indeed,  pernicious  to 
mankind — that,  seeing  God  is  infinitely  wise  and  good, 
this  could  not  but  be  a  part  of  his  contrivance.  This  is  very 
peremptorily  declared  in  the  original  of  my  text ;  where 
the  expression  is  not,  as  in  the  English,  "  no  prophecy 
is"  but  "  no  prophecy  is  tnade  of  self- interpretation." 
No  prophecy  is  to  be  found  in  Scripture,  which  is  not 
purposely  so  framed  as  not  to  be  of  self-interpretation. 
'Twas  undoubtedly  within  the  power  of  the  Almighty, 
to  have  delivered  the  whole  of  prophecy  in  terms  no  less 
clear  and  explicit  than  those  in  which  the  general  promises 
of  revelation  are  conveyed,  or  particular  deliverances  of 
the  Jewish  people  occasionally  announced:  but  his  wis- 
dom reprobated  this  unreserved  prediction  of  futurity, 
because  it  would  have  enlarged  the  foresight  of  man  be- 
yond the  proportion  of  his  other  endowments,  and  beyond 
the  degree  adapted  to  his  present  condition.     T©  ai'oiri 


(    20    ) 

this  mischief,  and  to  attain  the  useful  end  of  prophecy, 
which  is  to  afford  the  highest  proof  of  Providence,  it 
was  necessary  that  prophecy  should  be  deUvered  in  such 
disguise  as  to  be  dark  while  the  event  is  remote,  to  clear 
up  as  it  approaches,  and  to  be  rendered  perspicuous  by 
the  accomplishment.  And  in  this  disguise  prophecy 
hath  actually  been  delivered,  because  it  comes  from 
God,  who  is  good  and  wise,  and  dispenses  all  his  bles- 
sings in  the  manner  and  degree  in  which  they  may  be 
truly  blessings  to  his  creatures.  Knowledge  were  no 
blessing,  w^re  it  not  adjusted  to  the  circumstances  and 
proportioned  to  the  faculties  of  those  to  whom  it  is  im- 
parted. 

I  trust  that  it  appears  to  you,  that  the  apostle's  maxim, 
"  that  no  prophecy  can  be  its  own  interpreter,"  does  ne- 
cessarily follow  from  the  matter  of  fact  alleged  as  its 
foundation,  that  "  all  prophecy  is  from  God." 

You  will  reap  a  rich  harvest  of  improvement  from 
these  disquisitions,  if,  now  that  you  understand  the 
apostle's  rule  of  interpretation,  you  will  learn  to  use  it 
when  you  read  or  hear  the  prophecies  of  holy  writ.  In<. 
my  next  discourses,  I  shall  endeavour,  with  God's  as- 
sistance, to  teach  you  the  use  of  it,  by  examples  of  its 
application. 


SERMON    XVL 


2  Peter  i.  20,  21, 


IS 


Knowing  this  first,  that  no  prophecy  of  the  Scripture  i 
of  any  private  interpretation.  For  the  prophecy  came 
not  at  any  time  by  the  xvill  of  man;  but  holy  inen  of 
God  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghosts 


1  HIS  period  hath  already  been  the  subject  of  one  dis- 
course, in  which  it  hath  been  my  endeavour  to  explain 
its  meaning,  and  to  show  the  coherence  of  its  parts.  Its 
meaning, — that  it  propounds  a  maxim  for  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  prophecies  of  holy  writ,  which  is  this  nega- 
tive proposition,  that  no  prophecy  is  its  own  interpreter  i 
and  alleges  the  principle  upon  which  that  maxim  is 
founded,  that  all  prophecy  came  from  God.  The  cohe- 
rence of  its  parts, — inasmuch  as  the  maxim,  by  neces- 
sary and  obvious  consequence,  rises  out  of  the  principle 
alleged  as  the  foundation  of  it. 

I  now  proceed,  as  I  proposed,  to  instruct  you  in  the 
use  of  the  apostle's  maxim,  by  examples  of  its  applica- 
tion. I  would  not  fatigue  your  attention  with  unnecessary 
repetition ;  but  it  is  of  importance  that  you  should  re- 
collect that  the  apostle's  negative  maxim,  *'  that  no  pro- 
phecy is  of  self- interpretation,"  has  been  shown  in  effect 
to  contain  two  affirmative  rules  of  exposition, — that 
every  single  text  of  prophecy  is  to  be  considered  as  a 
part  of  an  entire  system,  and  to  be  interpreted  in  that 
sense  which  may  best  connect  it  with  the  whole;  and 


(    22    } 

that  the  sense  of  prophecy  in  general  is  to  be  sought  in 
the  events  which  have  actually  taken  place. 

To  qualify  the  Christian  to  make  a  judicious  applica- 
tion of  these  rules,  no  skill  is  requisite  in  verbal  criti- 
cism— no  proficiency  in  the  subtleness  of  the  logician's 
art — no  acquisitions  of  recondite  learning.     That  degree 
of  understanding  with  which  serious  minds  are  ordina- 
rily blessed — those  general  views  of  the   schemes  of 
Providence,  and  that  general  acquaintance  with  the  pro- 
phetic language,  which  no  Christian  can  be  wanting  in, 
who  is  constant,  as  every  true  Christian  is,  in  his  at- 
tendance on  the  public  worship,  and  gives  that  serious 
attention  which  every  true  Christian  gives  to  the  word 
of  God,  as  it  is  read  to  him  in  our  churches,  and  ex- 
pounded from  our  pulpits,  these  qualifications,  accom- 
panied with  a  certain  strength  of  memory  and  quickness 
of  recollection,   which  exercise  and  habit  bring — and 
with  a  certain  patience  of  attention  in  comparing  parallel 
texts, — these  qualifications  will  enable  the  pious  though 
unlearned  Christian  to  succeed  in  the  application  of  the 
apostle's  rules,  so  far  at  least  as  to  derive  much  rational 
amusement — much  real  edification — much  consolation 
— much  confirmation  of  his  faith — much  animation  of 
his  hopes — much  joy  and  peace  in  believing,  from  that 
heedful   meditation   of  the  prophetic  word,   which   all 
men  would  do  well  to  remember  an  inspired  apostle  hath 
enjoined. 

The  first  instance  to  which  I  shall  apply  the  apostle's 
rules,  is  the  very  first  prediction  which  occurs  in  the 
Bible — the  prophetic  curse  upon  the  serpent,  which  we 
read  in  the  third  chapter  of  the  book  of  Genesis. 
''  Thou  art  cursed  above  all  cattle  of  the  field.  Upon 
thy  belly  shalt  thou  go,  and  dust  shalt  thou  eat  all  the 
days  of  thy  life.  And  I  will  put  enmity  between  thee 
and  the  woman,  and  between  thy  seed  and  her  seed:  it 
(or  rather  "  he")  shall  bruise  thy  head,  and  thou  shalt 


(    23    ) 

bruise  his  heel."  To  judge  of  the  illustration  that  this 
prophecy  may  receive  from  the  apostle's  rules,  it  will  be 
proper  previously  to  settle  what  may  be  the  full  meaning 
of  the  words,  taken  by  themselves.  For  Ihis  purpose^ 
let  us  suppose  that  the  passage  were  recited  to  some  un- 
instructed  heathen,  who  should  be  totally  unacquainted 
with  the  Bible,  and  with  every  part  of  its  contents :  sup- 
pose him  quite  ignorant  of  the  story  of  the  fall — ignorant 
upon  what  occasion  the  words  were  spoken,  or  by  whom : 
suppose  that  he  were  only  told,  that  once  upon  a  time 
these  words  were  spoken  to  a  serpent ; —think  ye  he 
would  discern  in  them  any  thing  prophetic  ? — He  must 
have  more  than  the  serpent's  cunning,  if  he  did.  He 
would  tell  you  they  contain  a  few  obvious  remarks  upon 
the  condition  of  the  serpent  kind,  upon  the  antipathy 
which  nature  has  established  between  men  and  serpents, 
and  upon  the  natural  advantages  of  man  over  the  ve- 
nomed  reptile.  "  The  serpent,"  says  he,  "  is  told,  that, 
for  the  extent  of  his  natural  powers  and  enjoyments,  he 
holds  his  rank  with  the  lowest  of  the  brute  creation, — 
that  serpents,  by  the  make  of  their  bodies,  are  necessi- 
tated to  crawl  upon  the  ground,— that,  although  they 
have  a  poison  in  their  mouths,  the  greatest  mischief  they 
can  do  to  men  is  to  bite  them  by  the  heels ;  whereas  men, 
by  the  foresight  of  their  danger,  and  by  their  erect  pos- 
ture,  have  greatly  the  advantage,  and  knock  serpents  on 
the  head  wherever  they  chance  to  find  them."  This 
would  be  our  heathen's  exposition ;  nor  could  the  most 
subtle  criticism  draw  any  farther  meaning  from  the  terms 
of  this  denunciation. 

But,  now,  let  our  heathen  be  made  acquainted  vvitii 
the  particulars  of  the  story  of  the  fall;  and  let  him  un- 
derstand that  these  words  were  addressed  to  the  indivi- 
dual serpent  which  had  tempted  Eve,  by  the  Omnipotent 
Creator,  when  he  came  in  person  to  pronounce  the  dread- 
ful doom  upon  deluded  ruined  man ; — our  heatlien  will 


(    24    ) 

immediately  perceive  that  this  was  no  season  for  pur- 
suing  a  useless  speculation  on  the  natural  history  of 
the  serpent;  nor  was  so  obvious  a  remaik  upon  the 
comparative  powers  of  the  serpent  kind  and  man  better 
fitted  to  the  majesty  of  the  great  Being  to  whom  it  is 
ascribed,  than  to  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion  upon 
which  it  was  introduced :  and  he  could  not  but  suspect 
that  more  must  be  meant  than  meets  the  ear.  He  would 
observe,  that  the  words  were  addressed  to  the  serpent, 
in  the  character  of  the  seducer  of  our  first  parents, — 
that  the  denunciation  made  a  part  of  a  judicial  procedure, 
in  which  a  striking  regularity  appears  in  the  distribution 
of  the  several  branches  of  the  business. — Three  delin- 
quents stand  before  the  Maker  of  the  world,  to  answer 
for  a  crime  in  which  each  had  borne  a  part.  Adam,  as 
first  in  rank,  is  first  questioned.  He  acknowledges  his 
crime,  but  imputes  the  blame  to  Eve's  persuasions. 
Eve  is  next  examined.  She  confesses  the  trudi  of  her 
husband's  accusation,  but  she  taxes  the  serpent  as  her 
seducer.  The  Creator  proceeds  to  judgment.  And  in 
this  part  it  is  remarkable,  that  the  person  who  had  been 
first  interrogated  is  the  last  condemned:  for  the  first 
words  spoken  by  the  Judge,  after  he  has  received  the 
confession  of  the  human  pair,  are  those  in  which  he  ac- 
costs the  seipent ;  then  he  addresses  himself  to  Eve,— 
to  Adam  last.  The  words  addressed  to  Eve  are  the 
sentence  of  the  Judge,  denouncing  the  penalties  to  be 
sustained  by  her,  for  having  listened  to  the  serpent,  and 
made  herself  the  instrument  of  the  man's  seduction. 
The  words  addressed  to  Adam  are  the  sentence  of  the 
Judge  on  him,  for  having  yielded  to  Eve's  solicitation. 
— From  the  plain  order  of  the  business,  our  heathen 
would  conclude  that  these  words,  addressed  to  the  ser- 
pent, are  a  sentence  upon  him  as  the  first  seducer.  He 
would  observe,  that  as,  in  the  narrative  of  the  tempta- 
tion, contri\-ancc,  design,   and  s]:)eech,  are  ascribed  to 


(    25    ) 

the  serpent,  so,  in  these  words,  he  is  accosted  as  the' 
object  of  animadversion  and  punishment.  He  would 
say,  "  This  was  no  common  serpent  of  the  field,  but 
some  intelligent  and  responsible  agent,  in  the  serpent 
form ;  and,  in  the  evils  decreed  to  the  life  and  condition 
of  the  serpent,  this  individual  serpent  solely  is  concerned. 
The  enmity  which  is  mentioned,  between  the  serpent 
and  mankind,  must  express  some  farther  insidious  de- 
signs on  the  part  of  this  deceiver,  with  resistance  on  the 
part  of  man ;  and  in  the  declaration,  that,  while  serpents 
should  have  no  power  but  to  wound  the  heels  of  men, 
men  should  bruise  the  heads  of  serpents,  it  is  certainly 
intimated,  by  metaphors  taken  from  the  condition  and 
powers  of  the  natural  serpent,  that  the  calamities  which 
the  stratagems  of  this  enemy  in  disguise  should  bring  on 
man,  would  prove  light,  in  comparison  of  the  greater 
mischiefs  which  man  shall  inflict  on  him.  It  is  intimated, 
that  man's  wound,  although,  like  the  serpent's  bite,  it 
might  be  *"atal  in  its  consequences  if  it  were  neglected, 
was  however  curable.  The  reptile's  tooth  had  lodged 
its  malignant  poison  in  the  heel.  Considerable  time 
must  pass,  before  the  blood  and  juices  could  be  mortally 
infected ; — in  the  interval,  remedies  might  be  applied  to 
prevent  the  threatened  mischief.  Again,  the  declaration 
that  God  himself  puts  this  enmity  between  the  serpent 
and  mankind,  implies,  that  the  merciful  though  offended 
God  will  yet  take  an  interest  in  the  fortunes  of  man,  and 
will  support  him  in  his  conflict  with  the  adversary." 

You  see,  that,  by  considering  this  denunciation  of  the 
serpent's  doom  in  connection  only  with  tliat  particular 
story  of  which  it  is  a  part,  without  any  knowledge  of 
later  prophecies  and  revelations,  our  heathen  has  been 
able  to  dive  into  the  prophetic  meaning  of  words,  which, 
taken  by  themselves,  he  did  not  know  to  be  at  all  pro 
phetic.  The  particular  events,  indeed,  which  may  cor- 
respond to  the  images  of  the  prediction,  he  hath  not  ye^ 


(    26     ) 

beeii  able  to  assign ;  but  of  the  general  purport  of  the 
prophecy  he  has  formed  a  very  just  notion.  He  is  be- 
sides aware,  that  mysteries  are  contained  in  it,  more 
than  he  can  yet  unravel.  He  is  sensible  that  it  cannot  be 
without  some  important  meaning,  that  either  the  whole 
or  some  remarkable  part  of  Adam's  posterity,  contrary 
to  the  general  notions  of  mankind,  and  the  common 
forms  of  all  languages,  is  expressed  under  the  image  of 
the  woman's  seed  rather  than  the  man's.  I  must  here 
observe,  that  Adam,  with  respect  to  the  insight  he  may 
be  supposed  to  have  had  into  the  sense  of  this  curse 
upon  the  serpent,  was  probably  for  some  time  much  in 
the  situation  of  our  supposed  heathen, — aware  that  it 
contained  a  general  intimation  of  an  intended  deliverance, 
but  much  in  the  dark  about  the  particular  explication  of 
it.  This  prophecy  was  therefore,  to  Adam,  when  it  was 
first  delivered,  so  far  intelligible  as  to  be  a  ground  of 
hope, — at  the  same  time  that  the  darkness  of  the  terms 
in  which  it  was  conceived  must  have  kept  him  anxiously 
attentive  to  every  event  that  might  seem  conn*,  jted  with 
the  completion  of  it,  and  to  any  new  light  that  might  be 
given  him  by  succeeding  predictions  or  promises.  And, 
by  the  way,  this  points  out  one  important  secondary  use 
of  the  original  obscurity  and  gradual  elucidation  of  pro 
phecy,  by  succeeding  prophecies  and  by  events, — this 
method  of  prediction  awakens  the  curiosity  of  mankind. 
But  let  us  give  our  heathen,  whose  curiosity  is  keen 
upon  the  subject,  farther  lights.  Let  us  carry  him,  by 
proper  steps,  through  the  whole  volume  of  the  sacred 
oracles ;  and  let  us  instruct  him  in  that  great  mystery  of 
godliness,  which  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  was 
hidden  with  God,  but  in  these  later  ages  hath  been  made 
manifest  by  the  preaching  of  the  blessed  apostles  and 
evangelists ;  and,  when  his  heart  is  touched  with  a  sense 
of  the  mercies  conferred  on  him  through  Christ — when 
he  has  taken  a  view  of  the  whole  of  the  prophetic  word, 


(  27  ; 

and  has  seen  its  correspondence  with  the  history  of  Je- 
sus, and  the  beginnings  of  his  gospel,  let  him  then  re- 
turn to  the  curse  upon  the  serpent.  Will  he  now  find  in 
it  any  thing  ambiguous  or  obscure  ?  Will  he  hesitate  a 
moment  to  pronounce,  that  the  serpent  who  received 
this  dreadful  doom  could  be  no  other  than  an  animated 
emblem  of  that  malignant  spirit,  who,  in  the  latest  pro- 
phecies, is  called  the  Old  Dragon  ?  Or  rather,  will  he 
not  pronounce,  that  this  serpent  was  that  very  spirit,  in 
his  proper  person,  dragged,  by  some  imseen  power,  into 
the  presence  of  Jehovah,  to  receive  his  doom  in  the 
same  reptile  form  which  he  had  assumed  to  wreck  his 
spite  on  unsuspecthig  man ;  for  which  exploit  of  wicked 
and  dishonourable  cunning,  the  opprobrious  names  of  the 
Serpent  and  the  Dragon  have  ever  since  been  fixed  upon 
him  in  derision  and  reproach  ?  Will  not  our  enlightened 
and  converted  heathen  understand  the  circumstances 
which  are  mentioned  of  the  serpent's  natural  condition, 
as  intimations  of  something  analogous  in  the  degraded 
state  of  the  rebellious  angel  ?  By  the  days  of  the  ser- 
pent's life,  will  he  not  understand  a  certain  limited  pe- 
riod, during  which,  for  the  exercise  of  man's  virtue, 
and  the  fuller  manifestation  of  God's  power  and  good- 
ness, the  infemal  Dragon  is  to  be  permitted  to  live  his 
life  of  malice,  to  exercise  his  art  of  delusion  on  the  sons 
of  men? — while,  in  the  adjuncts  of  that  life,  the  gro- 
velling posture  and  the  gritty  meal,  will  he  not  read  the 
condition  of  a  vile  and  despicable  being,  to  whom  all 
indulgence  but  that  of  malice  is  denied — to  whom  little 
freedom  of  action  is  entrusted?  Will  he  have  a  doubt 
that  the  seed  of  this  serpent  are  the  same  that  in  other 
places  are  called  the  Devil's  angels?  Will  he  not  correct 
his  former  surmises  about  the  seed  of  the  woman,  and 
the  wound  to  be  inflicted  by  the  serpent  in  the  heel? 
Will  he  not  perceive,  that  the  seed  of  the  woman  is  an 
image,  not  generally  descriptive  of  the  descendants  of 
29 


(     28     ) 

Adam,  but  characteristic  of  an  individual — emphaticaily 
expressive  of  that  person,  who,  by  the  miraculous  manner 
of  his  conception,  was  peculiarly  and  properly  the  son  of 
Eve, — that  the  w^ound  to  be  suffered  by  this  person  in 
the  heel,  denotes  the  sufferings  ^vith  which  the  Devil  and 
his  emissaries  were  permitted  to  exercise  the  Captain  of 
our  Salvation?  And  will  he  not  discern,  in  the  accom- 
plishment of  man's  redemption,  and  the  successful  pro- 
pagation of  the  gospel,  the  mortal  blo^v  inflicted  on  the 
serpent's  head? — when  the  ignorance  which  he  had 
spread  over  the  world  was  dispelled  by  the  light  of  re- 
velation,— when  his  secret  influence  on  the  hearts  of 
men,  to  inflame  their  passions,  to  debauch  their  imagi- 
nations and  mislead  their  thoughts,  was  counteracted  by 
the  graces  of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  aiding  the  external  ad- 
ministration of  the  word, — when,  with  much  of  its  in- 
visible power,  his  kingdom  lost  the  whole  of  its  external 
pomp  and  splendour.  Silence  being  imposed  on  his 
oracles,  and  spells  and  enchantments  being  divested  of 
their  powder,  the  idolatrous  worship  which  by  those  en- 
gines of  deceit  he  had  universally  established,  and  for 
ages  supported,  notwithstanding  the  antiquity  of  its  in- 
stitutions, and  the  bewitching  gaiety  and  magnificence 
of  its  festivals,  fell  into  neglect.  Its  cruel  and  lascivious 
rites,  so  long  holden  in  superstitious  veneration,  on  a 
sudden  became  the  object  of  a  just  and  general  abhor- 
rence ;  and  the  unfrequented  temples,  stripped,  no  doubt, 
of  their  rich  ornaments  and  costly  offerings,  sunk  in 
ruins.  These  were  the  early  effects  of  the  promulgation 
of  the  gospel, — effects  of  the  power  of  Christ  exalted  to 
his  throne,  openly  spoiling  principalities  and  powers, 
and  trampling  the  Dragon  under  foot.  When  these  ef- 
fects of  Christianity  began  to  be  perceived,  which  was 
very  soon  after  our  Lord's  ascension, — when  magicians 
openly  foreswore  their  ruined  art,  and  burned  their  use- 
less books, — when  the  fiend  of  divination,  confessing: 


(     29    ) 

ihe  power  by  which  he  was  subdued,  ceased  to  actuate 
his  rescued  prophetess, — when  the  worshippers  of  the 
Ephesian  Diana  avowed  their  apprehensions  for  the  tot- 
tering reputation  of  their  goddess, — then  it  was  that  the 
seed  of  the  woman  was  seen  to  strike  and  bruise  the 
serpent's  head. 

Thus  you  see,  that  as  the  general  purport  of  this  pro- 
phecy was  readily  opened  by  an  attention  to  the  circum- 
stances  of  the  memorable  transaction  which  gave  occa- 
sion to  it,  so  a  comparison  of  it  with  later  prophecies, 
and  with  events  (which,  to  whatever  cause  they  may  be 
referred,  have  confessedly  and  notoriously  taken  place,) 
naturally  leads  to  a  particular  and  circumstantial  explica- 
tion. 

It  is  remarkable  that  this,  which  is  of  all  the  most  an- 
cient prophecy  of  the  general  redemption,  is  perhaps,  of 
any  single  prediction  that  can  be  produced,  upon  many 
accounts  the  most  satisfoctory  and  convincing.  For,  in 
the  first  place,  although  it  be  conveyed  in  the  most  highly 
figured  language,  the  general  meaning  of  it,  though  less 
obvious,  is  no  less  single  and  precise  than  the  most  plain 
and  simple  expressions  might  have  made  it.  It  was  ut- 
tered by  the  voice  of  God  himself;  therefore  two  dif- 
ferent and  unequal  intellects  were  not,  as  in  every  in- 
stance  of  prophecy  uttered  by  a  man,  concerned  in  the 
delivery  of  it.  The  occasion  upon  which  it  was  deli- 
vered was  of  such  importance  as  necessarily  to  exclude 
all  other  business :  its  general  meaning,  therefore,  must 
be  connected,  which  is  not  the  case  of  every  prophecj', 
with  the  occasion  upon  which  it  was  spoken ;  and  with 
that  occasion  one  meaning  only  can  possibly  connect  it. 
The  serpent  accosted  could  be  no  other  serpent  than 
Eve's  seducer, — the  curse,  no  other  curse  than  such  as 
might  be  adapted  to  that  deceivei-'s  nature, — the  enmity, 
no  other  enmity  but  what  might  be  exercised  between 
beings  of  such  natures  as  man  and  his  seducer, — and  tht- 


(    30    ) 

bruises  in  the  heel  and  in  the  head,  no  other  mischiefs  t© 
either  party  than  that  enmity  might  produce.   So  that  the 
general  meaning  to  which  the  occasion  points,  is  no  less 
certain  than  if  our  enemy  had  been  accosted  in  some  such 
plain  terms  as  these :  "  Satan !  thou  art  accursed  beyond 
all  the  spirits  of  thy  impious  confederacy.    Short  date  is 
granted  to  the  farther  workings  of  thy  malice ;  and  all 
the  while  thou  shalt  heavily  drag  the  burden  of  an  un- 
blessed existence, — fettered  in  thy  energies,  cramped  in 
thy  enjoyments ;  and  thy  malevolent  attempts  on  man, 
though  for  a  time  they  may  affect,  and  i^erchance,  through 
his  own  folly  endanger  liis  condition,  shall  terminate  in 
the  total  extinction  of  tliine  own  power,  and  in  the  ag- 
gravation of  thy  misery  and  abasement ;  and,  to  gall  thee 
more,  he  who  shall  undo  thy  deeds,  restore  the  ruined 
world,  and  be  thy  conqueror  and  avenger,   shall  be  a 
son,  though  in  no  natural  way,  of  this  deluded  woman.'* 
Again,  no  less  certain  than  the  general  meaning  de- 
rived from  the  occasion  of  this  prophecy,  is  the  particu- 
lar exposition  of  it  by  the  analogy  of  prophecy,  and  by 
the  event.    The  images  of  this  prediction,  however  dark 
they  might  be  when  it  was  first  delivered,  carry,  we  find, 
in  the  prophetic  language,  a  fixed  unvaried  meaning. 
The  image  of  the  serpent  answers  to  no  being  in  uni- 
versal nature  but  the  Devil.    Prophecy  knows  no  seed 
of  the  woman — it  ascribes  the  miraculous  conception  to 
which  this  name  alludes  to  none  but  the  Emanuel ;  nor 
shall  we  find,  in  the  whole  progeny  of  Eve,  a  person  to 
whom  the  character  may  belong,  but  the  child  in  the 
manger  at  Bethlehem,  the  holy  fruit  of  Mary's  unpol- 
luted womb. 

Lastly,  the  event  which  answers  to  the  image  in  the 
conclusion  of  this  prophecy,  the  bruise  upon  the  serpent's 
head,  is  in  its  nature  single ;  for  the  universal  extirpation 
of  idolatry,  and  the  general  establishment  of  the  pure 
worship  of  the  true  God.  is  a  thing  which  must  be  done 


{    31     ) 

once  for  all,  and  being  done,  can  never  be  repeated.  A 
prophecy  thus  definite  in  its  general  purport,  conveyed 
in  images  of  a  fixed  and  constant  meaning,  and  corres- 
ponding to  an  event  in  its  nature  single — a  sudden  and 
universal  revolution  of  the  religious  opinions  and  prac- 
tices of  all  the  civilized  nations  of  the  known  world, — 
such  a  prophecy,  so  accompHshed,  must  be  allowed  to 
be  a  proof  that  the  whole  work  and  counsel  was  of  God, 
if  in  any  case  it  be  allowed  that  the  nature  of  the  cause 
may  be  known  by  the  effect. 

I  mean  hereafter  to  apply  the  apostle's  rules  to  instances 
of  prophecy  of  another  kind,  in  which  we  find  neither 
die  same  settled  signification  in  the  imagery,  nor  the 
same  singularity  of  completion. 


SERMON    XVII. 


2  Peter  i.  20. 


Knoxvlrig  this  firsts  that  no  prophecy  of  the  Scripture  is 
of  any  private  interpretation. 


1  PROCEED  in  the  task  I  have  undertaken,  to  exem- 
plify the  use  of  those  rules  of  interpretation  which  the 
maxim  of  my  text  contains ;  which  are  these  two, — to 
refer  particular  predictions  to  the  system,  and  to  compare 
prophecies  with  events.  In  my  last  discourse,  I  showed 
you  with  what  certainty  and  facility  they  lead  to  the  ex- 
plication of  the  first  prophecy  that  was  ever  given — that 
which  was  uttered  by  the  voice  of  God  himself,  in  the 
form  of  a  curse  upon  the  serpent,  the  adviser  of  Adam's 
disobedience.  I  shall  now  try  them  in  an  instance  of  a 
very  different  kind,  where  the  occasion  of  the  prediction 
does  not  so  clearly  ascertain  its  general  purport, — where 
the  images  employed  are  less  fixed  to  one  constant  mean- 
ing,— and  where,  among  the  events  that  have  happened 
since  the  prophecy  was  given,  a  variety  may  be  found  to 
correspond  with  it,  all  in  such  exactness,  that  every  one 
of  the  number  may  seem  to  have  a  right  to  pass  for  the 
intended  completion. 

The  first  prophecy  uttered  by  the  voice  of  God,  fur- 
nished an  example  of  a  prediction  in  which  the  general 
meaning  was  from  the  first  certain,  and  the  imagery  of 
the  diction  simple,  and  of  which  the  accomplishment 
hath  been  single.    The  earliest  prophecy  recorded  in  the 


(     33     ) 

sacred  volume,  of  those  which  were  uttered  by  men, 
furnishes  the  example  that  we  now  seek,  of  a  prediction 
originally  doubtful  in  its  general  meaning,  comprehensive 
in  its  imagery,  various  in  its  completion.  Such  was  the 
prophecy  in  which  Noah,  awakened  from  his  wine,  and 
inflamed  with  resentment  at  the  irreverent  levity  of  his 
younger  son,  denounced  the  heavy  curse  on  his  posterity, 
and  described  the  future  fortunes  of  the  three  general 
branches  of  mankind.  "  Cursed  be  Canaan ;  a  servant 
of  servants  shall  he  be  unto  his  brethren.  Blessed  be 
Jehovah,  God  of  Shem! — and  Canaan  shall  be  his  ser- 
vant. God  shall  enlarge  Japhet,  and  he  shall  dwell  in 
the  tents  of  Shem,  and  Canaan  shall  be  his  servant." 

The  only  explicit  part  of  this  prophecy  is  the  curse 
upon  Canaan,  Ham's  youngest  son ;  of  whose  descend- 
ants it  is  openly  foretold  that  they  should  live  in  a  state 
of  the  lowest  subjection  to  nations  which  should  issue 
from  the  two  other  sons  of  Noah.  And  yet  here  we  find 
some  obscurity ;  for  how  was  Canaan  to  be  in  slavery 
both  to  Shem  and  Japhet?  The  evangelic  maxim,  "  that 
no  man  can  serve  two  masters,"  seems  applicable  here 
in  a  literal  sense.  This  difiiculty,  the  apostle's  maxim, 
of  applying  for  the  explication  of  the  sacred  oracles  to 
the  occurrences  of  the  world,  readily  removes.  It  ap- 
pears from  sacred  history,  that  so  early  as  in  the  time  of 
Abraham,  the  Canaanites  were  governed  by  petty  princes 
of  their  own,  who  were  the  tributary  vassals  of  the  As- 
syrian monarchy,  then  newly  arisen  under  princes  of  the 
family  of  Ashur,  Shem's  second  son.  And  from  pro- 
phane  history  we  learn,  that  when  the  Canaanites  fled 
from  tlie  victorious  arms  of  Joshua,  and  v/hen  the  re- 
mainder of  them  were  expelled  by  David,  they  settled 
in  those  parts  of  Africa  which  first  fell  under  the  domi- 
nion of  the  Romans,  the  undoubted  descendants  of  Ja- 
phet. Thus  Canaan  in  early  ages  was  the  slave  of  Shem, 
and  in  later  times  of  Japhet. 


(    34    j 

But  this  is  neither  the  most  difficult  nor  the  most  in- 
teresting part  of  the  prophecy.  Let  us  turn  our  attention 
to  the  blessings  pronounced  upon  the  two  other  branches. 
And  we  will  first  consider  Japhet's  part,  because  it  seems 
of  the  two  the  most  explicit.  "  God  shall  enlarge  Ja- 
phet,  and  he  shall  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem."  The 
most  obvious  meaning  of  the  words,  I  think,  is  this, — 
that  the  gracious  purpose  of  Providence  was  to  bless  Ja- 
phet  with  a  numerous  progeny,  which  should  spread 
over  an  ample  tract  of  country ;  and  that,  not  satisfied, 
or  not  sufficiently  accommodated  with  their  own  terri- 
tory, they  would  be  apt  to  encroach  upon  Shem's  de- 
scendants, and  make  settlements  within  their  borders. 
And  as  this  is  the  most  obvious  sense  of  the  words,  so 
it  is  justified  by  the  apostle's  rules;  for  history  supports 
it.  The  whole  of  Europe,  and  a  considerable  part  of 
Asia,  was  originally  peopled,  and  hath  been  ever  occu- 
pied by  Japhet's  offspring,  who,  not  contented  with  these 
vast  demesnes,  have  been  from  time  to  time  repeatedly 
making  encroachments  on  the  sons  of  Shem ;  as  was 
notoriously  the  case,  when  Alexander  the  Great,  with  a 
European  army,  attacked  and  overthrew  the  Persian 
monarchy — when  the  Romans  subjugated  a  great  part 
of  the  East, — -and  still  more  notoriously,  when  the  Tar- 
tar conquerors  of  the  race  of  Genghis  Khan  demolished 
the  great  empire  of  the  Caliphs,  took  possession  of  their 
country,  and  made  settlements  and  erected  kingdoms  in 
all  parts  of  Asia  and  the  East — and  again,  when  Tamer- 
lane setded  his  Moguls,  another  branch  of  Japhet's  pro- 
geny, in  Indostan,  whose  descendants  gradually  got  pos- 
session of  that  immense  country,  a  part  of  Shem's  ori- 
ginal inheritance,  which  forms  the  present  empire  of  the 
Great  Mogul.  These  events,  not  to  mention  other  less 
remarkable  incursions  of  Scythians  into  Shem's  parts 
of  Asia,  may  well  be  deemed  an  accomplishment  of  the 
patriarch's  prophetic  benediction ;  not  only  because  they 


(     35     ) 

answer  to  the  natural  import  of  the  terms  of  it,  but  be- 
cause every  one  of  them  had  great  consequences  upon 
the  state  of  the  true  religion,  and  the  condition  of  its 
professors  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  and  some  of 
them  have  been  the  subjects  of  later  prophecies.  So 
that,  in  this  interpretation,  we  find  the  two  circum- 
stances which,  according  to  the  aposde,  are  the  best 
characteristics  of  a  true  interpretation,— an  agreement 
with  the  truth  of  history,  and  a  connection  of  this  par- 
ticular prediction  with  the  system  of  the  prophetic 
word. 

It  may  seem,  however,  that  some  amicable  intercourse 
between  certain  branches  of  the  two  families — some 
peaceable  settlements  of  descendants  of  Japhet  in  nations 
arisen  from  the  other  stock,  may  be  no  less  conveniently 
denoted,  by  the  expression  of  "  Japhet's  dwelling  in  the 
tents  of  Shem,"  than  the  violent  encroachments  of  con- 
querors of  the  line  of  Japhet.     And  this  interpretation 
does  not  ill  agree  with  history,  or,  to  speak  more  pro- 
perly, with  the  present  state  of  the  two  families.     The 
settiements  of  Portuguese,  English,  Dutch,  and  French 
— all  of  us  descended  from  the  loins  of  Japhet,  made 
within  the  three  last  centuries  in  diiferent  parts  of  India 
— all  of  it  a  part  of  Shem's  inheritance,  have  given  the 
prophecy  in  this  sense  a  striking  accomplishment.    Nor, 
in  this  interpretation,  is  the  necessary  connection  wanting 
of  this  particular  prediction  with  the  prophetic  system ; 
for  consequences  cannot  but  arise,  although  they  have 
not  yet  appeared,  of  great  moment  to  the  interests  of  the 
true  religion,  from  such  numerous  and  extensive  setde- 
ments  of  professed  Christians,  in  countries  where  the 
light  of  the  gospel  hath  for  many  ages  been  extinguished. 
Thus  you  see,  history  leads  us  to  two  senses  of  this 
prophecy,  of  which  each  may  contain  an  unlimited  va- 
riety of  particular  accomplishments ;  since  every  settle- 
ment of  Europeans  or  of  Asiatic  Tartars  in  the  lowfv 
30 


(     36    ) 

Asia  and  the  East,  \\  hether  gained  by  war  or  procured 
by  commercial  treaties,  connects  with  the  prophecy  in 
one  or  other  of  these  two  senses. 

A  third  sense  is  yet  behind :  but,  to  bring  it  the  more 
readily  to  light,  it  will  be  proper  previously  to  consider 
the  sense  of  Shem's  blessing, — a  blessing  obliquely  con- 
veyed in  this  emphatic  ejaculation,  "  Blessed  be  Jehovah 
God  of  Shem!" — an  ejaculation  in  which  this  assertion 
is  evidently  implied,  that  "  Jehovah  should  be  Shem's 
God;"  and  this  is  the  whole  of  Shem's  blessing, — a 
blessing,  indeed,  which  could  receive  no  addition  or  im- 
provement. It  can  admit  of  no  dispute,  that  Jehovah  is 
here  styled  the  God  of  Shem,  in  the  same  sense  in  which 
in  later  times  he  vouchsafed  to  call  himself  the  God  of 
a  particular  branch  of  Shem's  progeny — of  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  of  Jacob,  and  of  their  descendants  the  Jewish 
people.  Jehovah  is  indeed  the  God  of  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth — the  Universal  Father,  whose  tender  mercies 
are  over  all  his  works;  but  'to  a  particular  branch  of 
Shem's  family,  he  was  for  a  time  more  peculiarly  a  God, 
inasmuch  as  he  chose  them  to  be  the  depositaries  of 
the  true  religion,  while  the  rest  of  mankind  were  sunk 
in  the  ignorance  and  abomination  of  idolatry.  Their 
temporal  concerns  he  condescended  to  take  under  the 
visible  direction  of  his  special  providence, — to  them  he 
revealed  his  sacred  incommunicable  name, — amon^  them 
he  preserved  the  knowledge  and  worship  of  himself,  by 
a  series  of  miraculous  dispensations,  till  the  destined 
season  came  for  the  general  redemption;  and  then  he 
raised  up,  among  the  offspring  of  that  chosen  stock,  that 
Saviour,  whose  divine  doctrine  hath  spread  the  know- 
ledge  and  worship  of  the  true  God  among  all  nations, 
and  whose  meritorious  sacrifice  of  himself  hath  made 
atonement  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  These  were 
the  privileges  in  store  for -a  select  branch  of  Shem's  fa- 
mily, nhen  this  propliccy  was  delivered, — privileges  by 


(     37     ) 

Avhich  they  were  put  in  a  condition  to  attain  the  highest 
blessings  both  in  this  world  and  in  the  next — the  height 
of  national  prosperity,  and  the  sum  of  future  bliss ;  and 
Shem  being  yet  alive,  and  his  family  not  split  into  its 
branches,  it  was  natural,  and  agreeable  to  the  usage  of 
the  prophetic  style,  that  the  future  blessings  of  the  oft- 
spring  should  be  referred  to  the  ancestor.  This,  there- 
fore, is  the  oracular  sense  of  the  patriarch's  emphatic 
compellation  of  Jehovah  as  the  God  of  Shem.  "  Thou, 
P  Jehovah !  shalt  be  the  God  of  Shem, — the  object  of 
his  worship  and  the  guardian  of  his  fortunes ;  while  the 
progeny  of  his  brethren  shall  place  their  foolish  trust  in 
those  which  are  no  gods." 

This  exposition  of  Shem's  blessing  will  naturally  lead 
to  a  new  sense  of  Japhet's,  if  we  only  recollect  what  ex- 
ternal means  were  used  by  Providence  to  preserve  the 
knowledge  of  the  true  God  in  the  chosen  branch  of 
Shem's  family.  These  means  were — the  call  of  Abra- 
Iiam — the  personal  intercourse  holden  with  him  and  his 
two  next  descendants — and,  in  due  time,  the  institution 
of  the  Mosaic  religion ;  of  which  religion,  you  will  par- 
ticularly  observe,  the  tabernacle  and  the  service  per- 
formed in  it  were  the  chief  external  instruments.  The 
magnificence  of  the  tabernacle — its  stately  support  of 
upright  pillars  resting  on  their  silver  sockets,  and  trans- 
verse beams  overlaid  with  gold — its  gorgeous  hangings 
within,  of  purple,  linen,  blue,  and  scarlet,  with  the  but- 
tons of  gold — its  noble  covering  without,  of  the  shaggy 
skins  of  goats — its  rich  furniture,  the  seven-branched 
candlestick,  the  altars,  and  the  implements  of  sacrifice, 
all  of  brass  or  gold,  pure  or  overlaid — the  ark,  contain- 
ing the  tables  of  the  law,  with  the  mercy- seat  oversha- 
dowed by  the  wings  of  a  cherubim — but  above  all,  the 
glgrious  light  which  filled  the  sacred  pavillion,  the  sym- 
bol of  Jehovah's  presence, — this  glory  of  the  tabernacle 
in  ancient  times,  and  of  the  temple  aftervvards,  was  pro- 


(     38     ) 

bably  what  most  caught  the  admiration  of  the  Jewish 
people,  and  attached  them  to  a  reUgion  which  had  so 
much  splendour  in  its  externals,  and  in  which  something 
of  what  is  visible  of  the  n^ajesty  of  the  Divine  Being 
met  the  senses  of  the  worshippers. 

Bearing  this  remark  in  mind,  let  us  now  turn  again  to 
that  part  of  the  prophecy  which  concerns  Japhet's  fa- 
mily, especially  the  latter  clause  of  it — "  he  shall  dwell 
in  tlie  tabernacles  of  Shem."  The  blessing  promised  to 
Shem,  we  have  found  to  be  the  miraculous  preservation 
of  the  true  religion  in  a  chosen  branch  of  Shem's  fa- 
mily. Might  not  the  prediction  of  this  merciful  design 
of  Providence  naturally  introduce  an  allusion  to  the  ex- 
ternal means  by  which  it  was  to  be  effected  ?  Among 
the  external  means,  we  have  seen  reason  to  think  that 
the  Jewish  tabernacle  was  the  most  generally  efficacious : 
but  under  what  description  is  it  likely  that  the  tabernacle, 
not  erected  till  the  days  of  Moses,  should  be  mentioned 
in  prophecy  so  early  as  the  days  of  Noah,— and  in  this 
prophecy  in  particular,  in  which  Jehovah,  for  the  inten- 
tion of  maintaining  the  true  religion  in  a  branch  of  Shem's 
family,  is  characterized  as  the  God  of  Shem  ? — A  beau- 
tiful consistency  of  imagery  will  be  maintained,  if  the 
tent  which  Jehovah  was  to  pitch  for  this  purpose  among 
men,  should  be  called  Shem's  tabernacle,  or  Shem's 
tent ;  for  a  tent  and  a  tabernacle  are  one  and  the  same 
thing,  and  the  word  in  the  Hebrew  is  the  same.  This 
holy  tent  or  tabernacle  was  Shem's  tabernacle,  because 
it  Wds  erected  among  the  sons  of  Shem,  and  because 
none  might  bear  a  part  in  the  whole  service  of  it,  who 
did  not  incorporate  with  the  chosen  family. 

But,  farther.  This  tabernacle,  and  the  service  per- 
formed in  it,  were  emblems  of  the  Christian  church  and 
of  the  Christian  service.  When  all  these  circumstances 
arc  put  together,  can  any  doubt  remain,  that,  in  the 
mention  of  the  tents  of  Shem,  the  Holy  Spirit  made  al- 


{     39    } 

lusion  to  the  Jewish  tabernacle  as  an  emblem  of  the 
Christian  church;  and  that  the  dwelling  of  Japhet  in 
these  tents  of  Shem,  took  place  when  the  idolatrous  na- 
tions of  Japhet's  line,  converted  to  the  faith  of  Christ, 
became  worshippers  of  the  God  of  Shem  in  Shem's  ta- 
bernacles— worshippers  of  the  true  God,  in  the  modes 
of  worship  prescribed  by  revealed  religion  ? 

And  this  interpretation  well  agrees  with  the  apostle's 
maxim,  being  supported  both  by  the  harmony  of  the 
prophetic  system  and  the  truth  of  history. 

For  the  harmony  of  the  prophetic  system.  This  in- 
terpretation brings  this  particular  prediction  to  bear  di- 
rectly upon  the  general  object  of  prophecy,  the  uniting 
of  all  nations  in  the  faith  of  Christ ;  and  it  is  worthy  of 
particular  remark,  that,  from  the  delivery  of  this  pre- 
diction, the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles  made  a  standing 
part  of  all  the  prophecies  of  the  Saviour.  Now,  that 
nothing  of  variation  might  appear  in  the  schemes  of 
Providence,  it  should  seem  that  it  was  requisite  that  the 
first  intimation  of  the  design  of  selecting  a  peculiar  peo- 
ple, which  is  contained  in  Shem's  blessing,  should  be 
accompanied  with  an  intimation  of  the  general  mercies 
of  which  that  measure  was  to  be  productive  to  all  man- 
kind :  but  of  the  general  benefit  intended  we  have  in  this 
place  no  intimation,  if  it  be  not  conveyed  in  Japhet's 
benediction, — in  which  benediction  it  is  not  conveyed, 
unless  this  sense  of  that  benediction  be  admitted.  This 
interpretation,  therefore,  of  the  prophetic  blessing  pro- 
nounced on  Japhet,  most  of  all  connects  it  with  the  grea^ 
object  of  prophecy,  and  best  maintains  the  harmony  of 
the  prophetic  system. 

Then  for  history.  The  fact  is  notorious,  that  the  gos- 
pel, from  die  beginning  to  the  present  times,  hath  made 
the  greatest  progress  in  Europe,  and  in  those  parts  of 
Asia  which  were  first  peopled  by  the  posterity  of  Japhet. 
Among  the  uncivilized  descendants  of  Ham,  and  the 


(     40    ) 

degenerate  sons  of  Shem,  it  hath  not  been  so  generally 
spread,  or  hath  not  so  deeply  taken  root. 

Beside  this  evident  agreement  with  history  and  the  pro- 
phetic system,  another  circumstance  is  much  in  favour 
of  this  interpretation,  which  is  this, — that  the  image 
of  this  prediction  bear  a  near  affinity  to  those  under 
which  later  prophets  have  described  the  same  event. 
Hear  in  what  language  the  prophet  Isaiah  announces 
the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles,  in  words  addressed  to 
the  Jewish  church,  as  the  emblem  of  the  Christian. 
"  Enlarge  the  place  of  thy  tent,  and  let  them  stretch 
forth  the  curtains  of  diine  habitations. ' '  Or,  as  the  words 
are  more  significantly  rendered  in  a  late  translation, 
*'  Let  the  canopy  of  thy  habitation  be  extended.  Spare 
not :  lengthen  thy  cords,  and  firmly  fix  thy  stakes.  For 
on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left  thou  shalt  burst  forth 
with  increase,  and  thy  seed  shall  inherit  the  Gentiles." 
Here,  you  see,  Isaiah's  allusion  is  to  the  tabernacle;  and 
the  image  presented  to  him  is  an  enlargement  of  the  sa- 
cred tent,  to  contain  new  crovv  ds  of  worshippers ;  and 
the  stakes  are  to  be  driven  deep  and  firm — the  cords  are 
to  be  lengthened  and  drawn  tight,  that  the  sides  of  the 
tent  may  be  able  to  sustain  the  pressure  of  the  multi- 
tudes  within  it.  Noah's  allusion  is  also  to  the  tabernacle  ; 
and  the  image  presented  to  him  is  the  admission  of  fo- 
reign worshippers.  It  is  therefore  one  and  the  same 
scene  which  the  patriarch  and  the  j^ounger  prophet  have 
before  them;  and,  except  in  the  distinct  mention  of 
that  particular  circumstance,  that  the  new  worshippers 
should  be  chiefly  of  Japhet's  stock,  Noah's  prophecy 
differs  not  from  Isaiah's,  otherwise  than  as  an  outline 
differs  from  a  more  finished  drawing  of  the  same  objects. 

Thus,  by  the  apostle's  rules,  prophecy,  in  that  part  of 
it  w^hich  regards  the  family  of  Japhet,  is  brought  to  three 
senses,  in  each  of  which  it  hath  been  remarkably  veri- 
fied,— in  the   settlements  of  European  and  Tartarian 


(     41     } 

conquerors  in  the  Lower  Asia  and  in  the  East, — in  the 
settlements  of  European  traders  on  the  coasts  of  Indos- 
tan, — but  especially  in  the  numerous  and  early  conver- 
sions of  the  idolaters  of  Japhet's  line  (among  whom  it  is 
fit  that  we  of  this  island  should  remember  our  own  an- 
cestors were  included)  to  the  worship  of  the  one  true' 
God,  and  to  the  faith  of  Christ. 

I  am  sensible  that  this  variety  of  intent  and  meaning 
discovered  in  a  single  prophecy,  brings  on  a  question  of 
no  small  difficulty,  and  of  the  first  importance.  It  is 
this, — What  evidence  of  a  providence  may  arise  from 
predictions  like  the  one  we  have  now  been  considering, 
in  which  a  variety  of  unconnected  events,  independent, 
to  all  appearance,  of  each  other,  and  very  distant  in 
times,  seem  to  be  prefigured  by  the  same  images?  And, 
although  it  be  a  digression  from  my  main  subject,  yet  as 
the  inquiry  is  of  the  highest  importance,  and  spontane- 
ously presents  itself,  it  is  to  this  that  I  shall  devote  the 
remainder  of  the  present  discourse. 

I  shall  not  wonder,  if,  to  those  who  have  not  sifted 
this  question  to  the  bottom  (which  few,  I  am  persuaded, 
have  done),  the  evidence  of  a  providence,  arising  from 
prophecies  of  this  sort,  should  appeal'  to  be  very  slender, 
or  none  at  all.  Nor  shall  I  scruple  to  confess,  that 
time  was  when  I  was  myself  in  this  opinion,  and  was 
therefore  much  inclined  to  join  with  those  who  think 
that  every  prophecy,  were  it  rightly  understood,  would 
be  found  to  carry  a  precise  and  singfc  meaning,  and  that, 
wherever  the  double  sense  appears,  it  is  because  the 
one  true  sense  hath  not  yet  been  detected.  I  said, 
"  Either  the  images  of  the  prophetic  style  have  constant 
and  proper  relations  to  the  events  of  the  world,  as  the 
words  of  common  speech  have  proper  and  constant 
meanings, — or  they  have  not.  If  they  have,  then  it 
seems  no  less  difficult  to  conceive  that  many  events 
should  be  shadowed  under  the  images  of  one  and  the 


(     42     ) 

same  prophecy,  than  that  several  Hkenesses  should  be 
expressed  in  a  single  portrait.  But,  if  the  prophetic 
images  have  no  such  appropriate  relations  to  things,  but 
that  the  same  image  may  stand  for  many  things,  and 
various  events  be  included  in  a  single  prediction,  then  it 
should  seem  that  prophecy,  thus  indefinite  in  its  mean- 
ing, can  afford  no  proof  of  providence :  for  it  should 
seem  possible,  that  a  prophecy  of  this  sort,  by  whatever 
principle  the  world  were  governed,  whether  by  provi- 
dence, nature,  or  necessity,  might  owe  a  seeming  com- 
pletion to  mere  accident."  And  since  it  were  absurd  to 
suppose  that  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  should  frame  pro- 
phecies by  which  the  end  of  prophecy  might  so  ill  be 
answered,  it  seemed  a  just  and  fair  conclusion,  that  no 
prophecy  of  holy  writ  might  carry  a  double  meaning. 

Thus  I  reasoned,  till  a  patient  investigation  of  the  sub- 
ject brought  me,  by  God's  blessing,  to  a  better  mind.  I 
stand  clearly  and  unanswerably  confuted,  by  the  instance 
of  Noah's  prophecy  concerning  tlie  family  of  Japhet ; 
which  hath  actually  received  various  accomplishments, 
in  events  of  various  kinds,  in  various  ages  of  the  world, 
— in  the  settlements  of  European  and  Tartarian  con- 
querors in  the  Lower  Asia,  in  the  settlements  of  Eu- 
ropean traders  on  the  coasts  of  India,  and  in  the  early 
and  plentiful  conversion  of  the  families  of  Japhet's  stock 
to  the  faith  of  Christ.  The  application  of  the  prophecy 
to  any  one  of  these  events  bears  all  the  characteristics  of 
a  true  interpretation, — consistence  with  the  terms  of  the 
prophecy,  consistence  with  the  truth  of  history,  con- 
sistence with  the  prophetic  system.  Every  one  of  these 
events  must  therefore  pass,  with  every  believer,  for  a 
true  completion. 

A  plain  instance,  therefore,  being  found  in  holy  writ, 
of  a  prophecy  which  bears  more  than  a  double  meaning, 
the  question,  what  evidence  such  prophecies  may  afford 
of  a  divine  providence,  becomes  of  the  highest  moment. 


(     4S     ) 

I  enter  upon  the  discussion  of  it  with  this  preliminiiry 
observation, — that  if  our  suspicion  that  such  prophecies 
may  receive  a  seeming  accompHshment  by  chance,  or  by 
the  natural  and  necessary  course  of  the  world,  should 
appear,  upon  a  strict  examination,  unreasonable  and  ill- 
founded,  the  consequence  will  be,  that  the  evidence 
arising  from  this  sort  of  prophecy  is  of  the  highest  kind ; 
since  the  greater  the  variety  of  events  may  be  to  which 
a  single  combination  of  images  shall  be  found  to  corres- 
pond, the  more  of  art  and  contrivance  is  displayed  in  the 
framing  of  the  prophecy,  and  the  more  of  power  (if  ac- 
cident be  clearly  excluded)  in  bringing  about  the  com- 
pletion. Our  whole  inquiry,  therefore,  is  reduced  within 
a  narrow  compass,  since  the  whole  is  brought  to  rest 
upon  this  single  question,  May  the  accomplishment  of 
such  predictions  be,  or  may  it  not  be  accidental  ?  If  it 
may,  then  such  prophecies  are  frivolous,  and  the  Deity 
is  blasphemed  when  they  are  ascribed  to  him.  If  it  may 
not,  then  such  prophecies  are  mos*:  complete  and  won- 
derful demonstrations  of  the  absolute  foreknowledge  and 
universal  providence  of  God.  The  negative  of  this  great 
question,  w  hich^  leads  to  these  comfortable  and  glorious 
consequences,  I  purpose  to  sustain.  I  mean  to  show 
you,  that,  amidst  all  the  comprehension  and  variety  of 
meaning  which  is  to  be  found  in  any  prophecies  of  holy 
writ,  and  which,  in  the  instance  before  us,  of  Noah's 
prophecy,  is  indeed  wonderful,  certain  restrictions  and 
limitations  will  alwaj^s  be  found,  by  which  the  power  of 
accident,  or  any  other  but  an  intelligent  cause,  is  no  less 
excluded  from  any  share  in  the  completion,  than  it  is  in 
other  instances,  where  the  prediction,  like  the  curse 
upon  the  serpent,  points  direct  and  full  at  a  single  event. 
The  method  which  I  shall  pursue  to  make  this  appear, 
shall  be  to  argue  upon  Noah's  prophecy,  which  I  have 
so  particularly  expounded,  as  an  instance ;  and  my  me- 
thod of  arguing  upon  ^his  instance  shall  be,  to  contrast 
31 


(     44     ) 

it,  ill  every  circumstance,  with  a  pretended  prediction, 
which,  for  the  propriety  of  its  images,  and  the  exactness 
of  its  completion,  hath  been  compared  and  set  in  com- 
petition with  the  prophecies  of  holy  writ. 

A  heathen  poet,  whose  subject  leads  him  to  speak  of 
a  certain  voyage,  which,  if  it  was  ever  really  performed, 
was  the  first  attempt  of  any  European  nation  to  cross 
the  main  seas  in  a  large  ship  with  masts  and  sails,  de- 
scribes, in  elegant  and  animated  strains,  the  conse- 
quences which  the  success  of  so  extraordinary  an  un- 
dertaking might  be  expected  to  produce  upon  the  state 
of  mankind,  the  free  intercourse  that  was  likely  to  be 
opened  between  distant  nations,  and  the  great  disco- 
veries to  be  expected  from  voyages  in  future  times, 
when  the  arts  of  ship-building  and  navigation,  to  which 
this  expedition,  if  a  real  one,  gave  rise,  should  be  car- 
ried to  perfection.  This  is  his  general  argument,  and 
verses  to  this  effect  make  the  conclusion  of  his  song. 

" Distant  years 


Shall  bring  the  fated  season,  when  Ocean, 
Nature's  prime  barrier,  shall  no  more  obstruct 
The  daring  search  of  enterprising  man. 
The  earth,  so  wide,  shall  all  be  open, — 
.     The  mariner  explore  new  worlds; 
Nor  Shetland  be  the  utmost  shore."* 

"  Now  give  me,"  says  the  infidel,!  "  a  prophecy  from 
your  Bible,  which  may  be  as  clearly  predictive  of  any 
event  which  you  may  choose  to  allege  for  the  accom- 
plishment, as  these  verses  have  by  mere  accident  proved 


S.frula  scris,  quilnis  Occamis 
ViiiLula  rcTUrn  laxat,  et  injjens 
F.iteat  alius,  Tipliysque  novos 
Detegnt  orbes ;  nee  sit  tenis 
Ultima  Thule." 

Sencea,  Mcdca,  ,174,  tJc. 
\  Anthony  Coilins-. 


(    45     ) 

to  be,  of  the  discovery  of  America  by  Christopher  Co- 
lumbus. Give  me  such  a  prophecy  from  your  Bible,  as 
I  have  produced  to  you  from  a  heathen  poet,  who  yet 
was  no  prophet,  nor  claimed  the  character,  and  I  will 
turn  believer."  We  cheerfully  accept  this  arrogant  de- 
fiance ; — -we  are  thankful  to  the  adversary  that  he  hatli 
invited  us  to  meet  him  on  such  advantageous  ground, 
by  comparing  what  may  justly  be  deemed  the  most  in- 
definite of  the  Scripture  prophecies,  with  the  best  spe- 
cimen of  the  power  of  accident  for  the  completion  of 
prophecy  which  his  extensive  reading  could  produce. 

These  verses  of  his  Latin  poet  are,  indeed,  a  striking 
example  of  a  prediction  that  might  safely  take  its  chance 
in  the  world,  and,  happen  what  might,  could  not  fail  at 
some  time  or  odier  to  meet  with  its  accomplishment.  In- 
deed, it  predicts  nothing  but  what  was  evidently  within 
the  ken  of  human  foresight, — that  men,  being  once  fur- 
nished with  the  means  of  discovery,  would  make  dis- 
coveries,— that,  having  ships,  they  would  make  voyages, 
— that,  when  improvements  in  the  art  of  ship-building 
should  have  furnished  larger  and  better  ships,  men 
would  make  longer  and  more  frequent  voyages, — and 
that,  by  longer  and  more  frequent  voyages,  they  would 
gain  more  knowledge  of  the  surface  of  the  globe  which 
they  inhabit.  What  peasant  of  Thessaly  but  might  have 
uttered  such  prophecies  as  these,  who  saw  the  Argo 
bring  her  heroes  home,  and  observed  to  what  degree  the 
avarice  and  curiosity  of  his  countrymen  were  inflamed, 
by  the  wealth  which  the  adventurers  had  amassed,  and 
the  stories  which  they  spread?  What  restriction  do  we 
find  of  the  generality  of  these  prognostications,  which 
may  seem  to  put  the  exact  completion  out  of  the  reach 
of  accidental  causes  ?  None.  Neidier  the  parts  of  the 
world  are  specified  from  which  expeditions  of  discovery 
should  be  fitted  out,  nor  the  quarters  in  which  they 
should  most  succeed: 


(     46     ) 

upon  the  latter  article  be  couched  in  the  mention  of 
Shetland  as  an  island  that  should  cease  to  be  extreme, 
it  is  erroneous,  as  it  points  precisely  to  that  quarter  of 
the  globe  where  discovery  hath  ever  been  at  a  stand, — 
where  the  ocean,  to  this  hour,  opposes  his  eternal  bar- 
rier of  impervious  unnavigable  ice. 

So  mucli  for  our   infidel's  prophecy.     Let  us  now 
compare  the  patriarch's.     Of  this,   indeed,   the  topics 
are  most  general, — the  increase   of  mankind — empire 
and    servitude — varieties  of  religion — conquests — mi- 
gration— foreign  setdements.     The  increase  of  mankind 
was  to  be  foreseen  from  physical  causes; — that  man- 
kind, being  increased,  some  part  would  govern,  might 
be  probably  conjectured ; — that  one  part  governing,  an- 
other part  must  serve,  was  of  necessity  to  be  concluded ; 
— that  a  part  of  mankind  would  fall  from  the  worship 
of  the  one  true  God,  was  to  be  feared,  from  the  ex- 
ample   of   the  antediluvian    world; — that    conquerors 
would  plant  colonies,  and  merchants  make  settlements 
in  foreign  countries,  the  same  example  might  persuade. 
So  far  the  comparison  may  weav  a  promising  aspect  on 
our  adversary's  side :  but  let  him  not  exult  before  his 
victory  is  complete.     Let  him  tell  me  by  what  natural 
sagacity  the  patriarch  might  foresee — by  what  analogy 
of  antediluvian  history  he  might  conjecture,  that  Japhet's 
line  would  have  so  greatly  the  advantage  over  Shem's, 
in  the  rate  of  increase  by  propagation,  and  in  the  extent 
of  territory,  that  when  he  speaks  of  God's  enlarging  Ja- 
phet,  he  should  esteem  the  enlargement  of  Shem  in 
either  instance  unworthy  to  be  mentioned.    Did  blind 
causes  bring  about  the  agreement,   which  all  historj- 
proves,  between  the  patriarch's  conjecture  and  the  event 
of  things?     "  Unquestionably,"  the  adversary  will  re- 
ply, "  blind  causes  brought  this  about.    Physical  causes 
determine  the  rate  of  propagation,  and  with  the  rate  of 
propagation  the  gro\\th  of  empire  is  naturally  connected.'" 


(     47     ) 

It  is  granted.  But  was  it  within  the  natural  powers  of 
the  patriarch's  mind  to  ascertain  in  which  line  these  phy- 
sical causes  should  be  the  most  efficacious,  while  the 
nations  to  arise  from  either  of  his  sons  lay  yet  unissued 
in  the  loins  of  their  progenitors  ?  If  not,  to  what  may 
the  agreement  be  ascribed  between  the  thoughts  of  the 
patriarch's  mind,  which  did  not  command  those  physical 
causes,  and  the  effects  of  causes  which  could  not  influ- 
ence his  thoughts,  but  the  energy  of  that  Supreme  Mind 
which  hath  the  thoughts  of  men  and  the  motions  of 
matter  equally  in  its  power  ? 

Again,  I  ask,  by  what  natural  sagacity  did  the  patriarch 
foresee  that  Shcm's  family,  rather  than  any  branch  of 
the  other  two,  should  retain  the  knowledge  and  worship 
of  Jehovah  ? — that  the  condition  of  slavery  should  be 
fixed  upon  a  particukir  branch  of  Ham's  descendants  ? 
— that  the  masters  of  those  slaves  should  be  of  the  stock 
of  Shem  or  Japhet,  rather  than  of  the  collateral  branches 
of  their  own  family  ?  By  what  natural  sagacity  did  the 
patriarch  foresee  the  distinct  genius  and  character  of 
whole  nations  yet  unborn  ? — that  the  spirit  of  migration 
should  prevail  in  the  line  of  Japhet,  while  the  indolent 
progeny  of  Shem  would  ever  be  averse  to  foreign  set- 
tlements, and  indifferent  to  a  distant  commerce?  Hath 
it  been  accident,  I  would  ask,  that  the  history  of  past 
ages,  and  the  experience  of  the  present  time,  confirm 
the  patriarch's  conjecture,  and  falsify  the  poet's? — for 
the  poet,  although  the  adversary  would  gladly  have  sup- 
pressed that  circumstance,  speaks  of  the  intermixture 
which  he  thought  likely  to  take  place  of  different  nations. 
But,  unfortunately  for  the  infidel's  argument,  the  poet  is 
wrong  precisely  in  those  particulars  in  which  the  patriarch 
is  right ;  and  this  although  the  poet  lived  when  the  dif- 
ferent genius  of  the  sons  of  Shem  and  Japhet  had  shown 
itself,  and  lay  open  to  a  wise  man's  observation.  "  The 
cool  Armenian    streams    (so   the  poet  guessed)  shall 


(    48    ) 

quench  the  parched  Indian's  thirst,  and  Persians  drink 
the  Rhine  and  Elbe."*  But  is  it  so?  Did  ever  colony 
of  Indians  settle  in  the  Upper  Asia  ?  Are  Persians  to 
be  found  upon  the  banks  of  the  Elbe  or  the  Rhine? 
What  said  the  patriarch?  Just  the  reverse;  and  that 
reverse  proves  true.  Tartars  from  the  north  of  Asia 
hold  possession  of  Shem's  Indian  territory,  and  Japhet's 
Europe  drinks  the  Ganges  ! 

Was  it  accident — was  it  an  effect  of  mechanical  causes, 
that  Japhet's  sons,  when  they  had  been  sunk  for  ages  in 
the  abominations  of  idolatry,  were  reclaimed  at  last  by 
the  emissaries  of  that  divine  teacher  who  arose  among 
Shem's  descendants,  and  thus  settled,  according  to  the 
patriarch's  prediction,  in  Shem's  tabernacles?  Was  it 
chance — was  it  nature — was  it  fate,  that  a  prophecy  like 
that  before  us,  applicable  to  events  of  various  sorts, — to 
propagation — conguest — trade— religion,  hath  received 
an  accomplishment  in  ever>'  sense  in  whicli  the  words 
can  be  taken? — and  this  notwithstanding  that  each  sense 
hath  such  limitations  as  no  less  require  a  certain  deter- 
mination of  the  course  of  the  world,  for  the  verification 
of  the  prediction,  than  if  each  sense  had  respected  one 
individual  fact  ?  I  would  not  indeed  deny,  that  without 
any  superintendance  of  the  world  by  Providence,  events 
might  sometimes  so  fall  out  as  to  correspond  with  a  ran- 
dom conjecture  of  the  human  mind,  or  with  the  forged 
predictions  of  an  impostor.  But  if  the  impostor's  words 
should  carry  two  meanings,  the  probability  that  they 
should  be  verified  in  one  meaning  or  the  other  would 
indeed  be  much  greater ;  but  that  they  should  prove  true 
in  both,  the  probal^ility  would  be  much  less,  than  that 
of  the  accomplishment  of  a  prediction  of  a  single  mean- 


Irnlus  pjeliilum 


I'otMt  Araxem  :  Albira  I'ersuj 
llhtnumqiie  bilmnt" 

Seneca,  JHedea,  372,  &t 


(    49    ) 

ing.  If  the  words,  instead  of  two,  should  carry  a  va- 
riety  of  meanings,  the  improbability  that  they  should 
prove  true  in  all,  would  be  heightened  in  a  much  greater 
proportion  than  any  who  are  not  versed  in  computation 
may  easily  be  brought  to  apprehend.  But  the  phenome- 
non which  Noah's  prophecy  presents,  if  it  be  not  a  real 
prophecy  brought  by  Providence  to  its  completion,  is 
that  of  a  prediction  of  an  immense  extent  and  variety  of 
meaning,  which  hath  had  the  wonderful  good  forlune  to 
be  verified  in  every  branch.  If  this  cannot  be  supposed 
to  have  happened  without  Providence,  in  the  single  in- 
stance of  this  prophecy,  how  much  less  in  all  the  in- 
stances of  prophecies  of  this  sort  which  occur  in  holy 
writ?  And  if  this  could  be  conceived  of  all  those  pro- 
phecies, so  far  as  they  concern  secular  events,  yet,  let 
me  ask,  do  we  not  find  in  every  one  of  them,  or  at  least 
in  the  far  greater  part,  that  some  event  of  the  Messiah's 
reign,  or  something  characteristic  of  his  time  or  person, 
makes  one,  and  for  the  most  part  the  most  obvious  of 
the  various  meanings?  And  is  this  too  casual, — that 
such  a  variety  of  predictions  as  we  find  of  this  sort  in 
the  Bible,  delivered  in  different  ages,  upon  very  dif- 
ferent occasions,  should  be  so  framed,  as  all  to  bear 
upon  one  great  object,  the  last  of  a  succession,  or  the 
chief  of  an  assortment  of  events,  to  which  the  images 
of  each  prediction  are  adapted  with  such  wonderful  art, 
that  every  one  of  them  hath  passed  in  its  turn  for  the 
accomplishment?  Should  you  see  the  rays  of  the  sun 
reflected  from  a  system  of  polished  planes,  and  trans  ^ 
mitted  through  a  variety  of  refractive  surfaces,  collect 
at  last  in  a  burning  point,  and  there  by  their  united  ac- 
tion melt  down  the  stubborn  metal  which  resists  the 
chemist's  furnace,  would  you  refer  the  wonderful  effect 
to  chance,  radier  than  to  an  exquisite  polish — to  an  accu- 
rate  conformation  and  a  just  amingemcnt  of  the  mirrors 
and  the  glasses?  Would  you  not  suppose  that  the  skill 


(    50    ) 

of  many  artists  had  concurred  to  execute  the  different 
parts  of  the  machine,  under  the  direction  of  some  man 
of  far  superior  knowledge,  by  whom  the  properties  of 
light  and  the  laws  of  its  reflections  and  refractions  were 
understood,  and  by  whom  the  effect  which  you  had  seen 
produced  was  originally  intended  ?  And  can  you  sup- 
pose that  it  hath  happened  without  design  and  contriv- 
ance, that  the  rays  of  the  prophetic  light  are  concentrated 
in  a  single  point  to  illuminate  a  single  object  ? 

You  will  now  recollect  and  apply  the  observation  with 
which  we  entered  upon  this  discussion, — that  accident 
being  once  excluded  from  any  share  in  the  accomplish- 
ment, the  evidence  of  a  providence  which  tliese  multi- 
form prophecies  afford  is  of  the  highest  kind. 


SERMON    XVTIL 


2  Peter  i.  20,  21. 

Knowing  this  firsts  tJiat  no  prophecy  of  the  Scripture  u 
of  any  private  interpretation.  For  the  prophecy  came 
7iot  at  any  time  by  the  will  of  man ;  but  holy  men  of 
God  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 


r  ROM  the  digression  which  closed  my  last  discourse, 
I  now  return  to  my  principal  subject ;  and  shall  imme- 
diately proceed  to  the  last  general  topic  I  proposed  to 
treat, — namely,  to  show  that  this  same  text  of  the  apos- 
tle, which  is  so  sure  a  guide  to  the  sense  of  the  prophe- 
cies, will  also  furnish  a  satisfactory  answer  to  the  most 
specious  objection  which  the  adversai'ies  of  our  most 
holy  faith  have  ever  been  able  to  produce  against  that 
particular  evidence  of  the  truth  of  our  Lord's  preten- 
sions, which  arises  from  the  supposed  completion  of  the 
prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament  in  him  and  in  his  doc- 
trines. 

The  objection,  indeed,  is  nothing  less  than  this, — that 
although  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  Jewish  prophets 
be  admitted,  their  prophecies  will  afford  no  support  to 
our  Lord's  pretensions ;  for  this  reason,  that  in  the  ap- 
plication of  these  prophecies  to  him,  and  to  the  propa- 
gation of  his  doctrine,  they  are  drawn  by  the  writers  of 
the  New  Testament  to  a  sense  in  which  they  were  never 
understood  by  the  prophets  themselves  who  delivered 
them :  and  since  the  true  sense  of  any  writing  can  be  n© 
32 


(     52    ) 

otlier  than  that  which  the  author  intended  to  convey, 
and  which  was  understood  by  him  to  be  contained  in  the 
expressions  which  he  thought  proper  to  employ,  an  ap- 
phcation  of  a  prophecy  in  a  sense  not  intended  by  the 
prophet  must  be  a  misinterpretation. 

The  assertion  upon  which  this  objection  is  founded, 
"  that  the  first  preachers  of  Christianity  understood  pro- 
phecies in  one  sense  which  were  uttered  in  another,'* 
cannot  altogether  be  denied  ;  and,  unless  it  could  be  de- 
nied in  every  instance,  it  is  to  little  purpose  to  refute  it, 
which  might  easily  be  done,  in  some :  for  if  a  single  in- 
stance should  remain,  in  which  the  apostles  and  evan- 
gelists should  seem  to  have  been  guilty  of  a  wilful  mis- 
interpretation of  prophecy,  or  of  an  erroneous  application 
of  it,  the  credit  of  their  doctrine  would  be  greatly  shaken, 
since  a  single  instance  of  a  fraud  would  fasten  on  them 
the  imputation  of  dishonesty,  and  a  single  instance  of 
mistake  concerning  the  sense  of  the  ancient  Scriptures 
would  invalidate  their  claim  to  inspiration.  The  truth, 
however,  is,  that  though  the  fact  upon  which  this  ob- 
jection is  founded  were  as  universally  alleged, — which 
i<5  not  the  case, — yet,  were  it  so,  we  have  in  this  text  of 
the  apostle  a  double  answer  to  the  adversary's  argument, 
which  is  inconclusive,  for  two  reasons;  first,  because 
the  assumption  is  false,  that  the  prophets  were  the  au- 
thors of  their  prophecies,  "  for  the  prophecy  came  not 
at  any  time  by  the  will  of  man ;  but  holy  men  of  God 
spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost ;"  and, 
secondly,  were  the  assumption  true,  still  the  conclusion 
might  not  stand,  "  because  no  prophecy  of  holy  writ  is 
its  o\^'n  interpreter."  I  will  endeavour  to  make  you  un- 
derstand the  propriety  of  both  these  answers,  which  at 
first  perhaps  may  not  strike  you. 

First,  then,  I  say  we  deny  the  adversary's  rash  con- 
elusion,  though  in  part  we  grant  his  premises,  because 
his  assumption  is  false,  that  the  prophets  were  the  au- 


f     53     } 

tliors  of  their  prophecies.  The  assumption  is  false,  upon 
the  principles  upon  which  the  adversary  who  urges  this 
objection  professes  to  dispute.  He  professes  to  dispute 
upon  a  concession  of  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  Jewish 
prophets.  But,  if  the  prophets  were  inspired,  they  were 
not  the  authors  of  tlieir  prophecies ; — the  Holy  Spirit  of 
God  was  the  author  of  every  prophecy  or  of  every  say- 
ing of  a  prophet,  so  far  at  least  as  it  is  prophetic ;  and 
the  views  of  that  Omniscient  Spirit  who  gave  the  pro. 
phecy — not  the  surmises  of  the  men  whose  faculties  or 
whose  organs  that  spirit  employed — are  to  be  the  stand- 
ard of  inteipretation ;  and  this  upon  that  very  principle 
which  the  adversary  alleges, — that  the  meaning  of  every 
book,  and  of  every  sentence  in  the  book,  is  its  author's 
meaning. 

To  explain  this  more  distinctly,  I  must  observe,  that 
all  prophecy  is  speech,  in  which  the  prophet  is  made  to 
express  ideas  of  the  Divine  Mind,  in  uttering  his  own ; 
and  the  prophecies  of  holy  writ  are  divisible  into  two 
different  kinds,  distinguished  by  two  different  manners, 
in  which  this  utterance  of  the  mind  of  God  by  the 
mouth  of  the  prophet  was  usually  effected.  The  first 
kind  consisted  in  a  scene  allegorically  descriptive  of  fu- 
turity, which  was  displayed  to  the  imagination  of  the 
prophet,  who  was  left  to  paint  the  images  excited  in  his 
phantasy  in  such  language  as  his  natural  talents  of  poeti- 
cal description  might  supply.  Of  this  kind  are  the  pro- 
phecies delivered  by  Jacob  and  by  Moses,  not  long  be- 
fore their  death — the  prophecies  of  Balaam,  and  many 
that  occur  in  the  writings  of  those  who  were  prophets  by 
profession.  The  other  kind  consists  merely  in  verbal 
allusions,  when  the  prophet,  speaking  perhaps  of  him- 
self or  of  his  own  times,  or  of  distant  events  set  clearly 
in  his  view,  was  directed  by  the  inspiring  Spirit  to  the 
choice  of  expressions  to  ^'\■hich  later  events  have  been 
found  to  correspond  \^  ith  more  exactness  than  those  to 


(    54    ) 

which  the  prophet  himself  applied  them.  This  kind  of 
prophecy  particularly  abounds  in  the  Psalms  of  David, 
who  often  speaks  of  the  fortunes  of  his  own  life,  the 
difficulties  ^vith  which  he  had  to  struggle,  and  his  pro- 
vidential deliverances,  in  terms  which  carry  only  a  figu- 
rative meaning  as  applied  to  David  himself,  but  are  lite- 
rally descriptive  of  the  most  remarkable  occurrences  in 
the  holy  life  of  Jesus.  Nor  is  this  kind  of  prophecy 
unfrequent  in  the.  writings  of  the  other  prophets,  who 
were  often  made  to  allude  to  the  general  redemption, 
when  they  would  speak  in  the  most  explicit  terms  of 
deliverances  of  the  Jewish  people;  and  were  seldom 
permitted  to  deplore  present  calamities,  or  to  denounce 
impending  judgments,  but  in  expressions  literally  de- 
scriptive of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  and  the  afflictions 
of  his  church. 

In  both  kinds  of  prophecy  the  Spirit  of  God  and  the 
mind  of  man  had  each  its  proper  part.  In  prophecies  of 
the  first  kind,  the  matter  was  furnished  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  and  the  language  only  is  the  man's.  In  these  pro- 
phecies we  often  find  a  double  obscurity,  of  which  one 
part  is  to  be  imputed  to  the  man,  and  arises  from  the 
,  concise  and  broken  manner  in  which  he  utters  his  con- 
ceptions. Carried  away  by  the  strength  of  the  images 
presented  to  him,  the  prophet  seems  often  to  forget  that 
his  hearers  were  not  apprized  of  what  was  passing  in  his 
own  fancy :  he  addresses  them  upon  the  subject  of  what 
he  sees,  as  joint  spectators  of  the  interesting  scene,  in 
brief  allusions,  and  in  animated  remarks  upon  the  most 
striking  parts,  rather  than  in  a  just  and  cool  description 
of  the  whole.  Now,  this  obscurity  may  indeed  be  best 
removed  by  inquiring  the  prophet's  meaning — oy  col- 
lecting, from  his  abrupt  hints  and  oblique  intimations, 
what  might  be  the  entire  picture  exhibited  to  his  mind. 
But,  when  this  is  sufficiently  understood,  another  ob- 
■icurity,  arising  from  the  matter  of  the  prophecy,  may 


(    55     } 

yet  remain.  The  mystic  sense  couched  under  the  alle- 
gorical images  may  yet  be  hidden ;  and  for  clearing  this 
difficulty,  on  which  the  real  interpretation  of  the  pro- 
phecy, as  prophecy,  depends,  it  may  be  to  little  purpose 
to  inquire  or  to  know  what  meaning  the  prophet  might 
affix  tp  the  images  he  saw,  unless  it  were  certain  that 
the  prophet  was  so  far  in  the  secret  of  Heaven  as  to 
know  of  what  particular  events  these  images  were ,  de- 
signed to  be  the  emblems.  But  this,  it  is  certain,  he 
could  not  know  but  by  a  second  inspiration,  of  which 
there  is  no  evidence, — by  an  operation  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  on  the  rnan's  understanding,  which  might  enable 
him  to  decypher  the  allegorical  scenery  which  his  ima- 
gination had  been  made  to  conceive :  for,  that  the  sight 
of  the  picture  should  be  accompanied  with  any  natural 
discernment  of  its  mystic  meaning,  is  no  more  necessary 
than  that  a  waking  man's  recollection  of  his  dream  should 
be  accompanied  with  a  clear  understanding  of  its  signi- 
fication ;  the  reverse  of  which  wc  know  to  have  been  the 
case  in  ancient  times,  when  prophetic  dreams  were  not 
unfrequent.  The  dreamer  could  describe  every  parti- 
cular of  his  dream,  but,  for  the  meaning  of  it,  'twas 
necessary  he  should  have  recourse  to  other  persons  with 
whom  the  gift  of  interpretation  was  deposited ;  and  had 
God  been  pleased  to  withhold  this  gift,  a  prophetic 
dream  would  have  had  no  interpretation  antecedent  to 
its  completion,  and  yet,  by  the  completion,  would  have 
been  understood  to  be  prophetic.  Now,  what  is  a  dream 
which  is  distinctly  remembered,  and  not  at  all  understood, 
but  one  instance  of  a  prophetic  vision,  of  which  the 
sense  is  unknown  to  the  prophet  ?  In  prophecies,  there- 
fore, of  this  first  kind,  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
the  prophet's  meaning  was  the  whole  meaning  of  the  in- 
spiring Spirit ;  but  there  is  the  greatest  reason  from  an- 
alogy for  the  contrary  conclusion. 
In  prophecies  of  the  second  kind,  the  whole  matter  is 


(    56    ) 

from  the  mind  of  the  man,  but  the  language  is  from  the 
Divine  Spirit ;  and,  in  this  case,  the  immediate  action 
of  the  Spirit  seems  to  have  been  upon  the  memory  of 
the  prophet,  \vhich  was  directed  to  suggest  vi^ords, 
phrases,  and  simiHtudes,  which,  at  the  same  time  that 
they  were  strongly  expressive  of  the  prophet's  thoughts, 
were  still  more  nicely  adapted  to  the  private  meaning  of 
the  inspiring  Spirit.  Now,  in  this,  as  in  the  former  in- 
stance,  the  first  step  towards  the  understanding  of  tlie 
prophecy  is  to  settle  what  Avas  the  meaning  of  the  pro- 
phet. But  still  this  may  be  understood,  and  the  meaning 
of  the  Divine  Spirit  remain  a  secret ;  for  in  this,  as  in 
the  former  case,  'twas  impossible  the  prophet  should  be 
apprized  of  the  Spirit's  meaning,  without  a  second  ope- 
ration on  another  faculty  of  his  mind,  by  which  it  might 
be  impowered  to  discern  those  future  events  within  the 
view  of  the  Omniscient  Spirit,  to  which  the  expressions 
in  which  he  clothed  his  own  thoughts  might  be  applica- 
ble. But  of  this  second  act  of  the  Spirit,  for  the  private 
information  of  the  prophet,  no  evidence  appears. 

Upon  the  whole,  prophecy  of  either  kind  was  the 
joint  production  of  two  intellects,  of  very  different  and 
unequal  powers.  In  this,  therefore,  as  in  cvtry  instance 
where  more  than  single  intellect  is  concerned,  a  design 
and  meaning  may  reasonably  be  ascribed  to  the  superior 
imderstanding,  which  contrives  and  directs,  not  imparted 
to  the  inferior,  which  obeys  and  executes;  just  as,  in 
any  book,  the  meaning  of  the  author  may  be  litde  un- 
derstood by  the  corrector  of  the  press,  and  not  at  all 
by  the  founder  of  the  types.  And  yet  the  disparities  of 
understanding  between  the  wisest  and  most  learned  au- 
thor, and  the  most  ignorant  of  the  mechanics  whose 
manual  art  and  industry  must  concur  in  the  publicatioi\ 
of  his  labours, — tlie  disparity  between  the  wisest  man 
and  the  humblest  of  his  instruments,  is  nothing  in  com- 
parison  of  that  which  must  be  confessed  to  subsist  be- 


(    57    ) 

tween  the  two  intellects  which  have  concurred  in  the 
publication  of  the  prophetic  word. 

Here,  then,  is  one  answer  which  the  apostle  furnishes 
to  this  specious  objection,  "  that  the  prophecies  of  the 
Old  Testament  are  misinterpreted  by  the  writers  of  the 
New;  being  taken  in  senses  in  which  the  authors  of 
those  prophecies,  the  prophets,  never  understood  them." 
The  prophets,  says  the  apostle,  were  not  the  authors  of 
their  prophecies,  any  more  than  a  scribe  is  the  author  of 
the  discourse  which  he  takes  down  from  the  mouth  of  a 
speaker.  "  For  the  prophecy  came  not  at  any  time  by 
the  'w  ill  of  man ;  but  holy  Rjen  of  God  spake  as  they 
were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

This  first  answer  is,  however,  an  answer  to  the  ob- 
jector rather  than  to  the  objection ;  since  it  goes  no  far- 
ther than  to  prove  that  the  adversary's  argument  is  in- 
conclusive :  and  as  it  hath  happened  to  many  to  fail  in 
the  proof  of  true  propositions,  through  want  of  skill  or 
circumspection  in  the  framing  of  their  arguments,  it  may 
perhaps  be  supposed  that  this  may  have  happened  to 
our  adversary  in  the  present  question.  It  may  be  said, 
in  defence  of  the  opinion  he  sustains,  that  though  every 
aathor  must  be  allowed  to  understand  his  own  writings, 
it  is  not  to  be  allowed  that  no  writing  is  to  be  understood 
by  any  but  the  author  of  it.  Though  the  principle, 
therefore,  may  be  false,  upon  which  our  adversary 
would  conclude  that  the  prophets  had  of  all  men  the 
clearest  understanding  of  their  prophecies,  the  reverse 
is  not  immediately  to  be  concluded — that  any  other  men 
have  had  a  clearer  understanding  of  them.  It  is  pos- 
sible, it  may  be  said,  that  the  prophets  might  enjoy  a 
a  clear  foresight  of  the  events  to  which  their  predictions 
were  intended  to  allude,  as  some  men  have  had  the  gift 
of  interpreting  their  own  dreams ;  and  that,  if  this  was 
the  fact,  which  may  seem  no  unnatural  supposition,  the 
consequence  still  must  be,  that  no  meaning  that  may  be 


(     58     ) 

afiixed  to  any  prophecy  may  be  the  true  one,  that  was 
not  within  the  comprehension  of  the  prophet's  mind. 
Now,  we  will  allow  the  adversary  to  amend  his  assump- 
tion, and  to  reform  his  argument; — we  will  allow  him 
to  assimic,  that  the  full  meaning  of  every  prophecy  was 
clearly  understood  by  the  prophet  who  uttered  it.  We 
shall,  in  the  course  of  our  argument,  find  a  proper  place 
to  show  that  this  assumption  is  false,  and  all  conse- 
quences built  upon  it  at  the  best  precarious.  But,  for 
the  present,  we  grant  this  assumption,  with  every  con- 
sequence that  may  fairly  be  deduced  from  it.  We  must 
therefore  grant  (what  we  hold,  indeed,  to  be  false ;  but 
for  the  present  we  must  grant  it)  that  nothing  may  be  a 
true  completion  of  a  prophecy  Avhich  was  not  foreseen 
by  the  prophet.  Still  we  feel  ourselves  at  liberty  to 
maintain  that  the  adversary's  argument,  with  all  this 
emendation  on  his  part,  and  with  all  this  concession  on 
our  own,  hath  no  connection  with  the  particular  conclu- 
sion against  the  first  preachers  of  Christianity ;  because 
he  has  not  proved — because  he  could  not  prove,  without 
retracting  that  very  assumption  on  which  his  whole  ar- 
gument depends — because  the  thing  is  incapable  of 
proof  upon  any  principles  which  an  infidel  granting  the 
divine  inspiration  of  the  Jewish  prophets  can  admit, — 
their  inspiration  being  granted,  it  is  incapable  of  proof, 
otherwise  than  bj'^  the  authority  of  the  later  Scriptures, 
that  those  very  meanings  M'hich  the  writers  of  the  New 
Testament  affix  to  the  ancient  prophecies  might  not  be 
in  the  minds  of  the  prophets,  though  they  are  not  ob- 
vious in  their  words.  The  proof  of  this  assertion  rests 
upon  the  apostle's  maxim,  that  "  no  prophecy  of  Scrip- 
ture is  of  self- interpretation;"  or,  to  state  the  same 
thing  affirmatively,  that  the  sense  of  prophecy  is  to  be 
sought  in  the  events  of  the  world,  and  in  the  hannony 
of  the  prophetic  \vritings,  rather  than  in  the  bare  terms 
of  any  single  prediction. 


(     59    ) 

The  apostle  asserts  that'  all  the  Scripture  prophecies 
are  purposely  so  conceived  as  not  to  be  of  self- interpre- 
tation. He  intimates  that  it  vviis  a  part  of  the  scheme  of 
Providence,  that  prophecy  should  be  so  delivered  as  to 
have  to  fetch  its  interpretation  from  the  consistence  of 
the  prophetic  system,  and  from  the  events  of  the  world. 
I  do  not  insist  upon  the  authority  of  the  apostle; — I 
know  that  this  is  nothing  with  the  adversary :  but  I  per- 
suade myself  you  will  recollect,  that  in  a  former  dis- 
course, in  which  I  opened  the  connection  between  the 
apostle's  maxim  and  the  facts  on  which  he  builds  it,  I 
proved,  from  the  end  to  which  prophecy,  if  it  comes 
from  God,  must  unquestionably  be  directed,  and  from 
the  wisdom  with  which  the  means  of  Providence  must 
ever  be  adapted  to  their  ends, — I  proved  to  you,  not 
from  any  man's  authority,  but  from  these  plain  and  ge- 
neral peinciples  of  natural  religion,  namely,  that  God  is 
good  and  wise,  that  his  ends  ever  are  the  best,  and  his 
means  the  most  fitting  and  convenient, — I  proved  to 
you,  from  such  plain  principles  as  these,  acknowledged 
by  Deists  no  less  than  by  Christians,  that  if  prophecy 
be  really  of  divine  original,  that  mysterious  disguise  by 
which  the  events  of  remote  futurity  (such  at  least  as 
depend  on  the  free  actions  of  men)  may  be  kept  almost 
as  much  concealed  as  if  prophecy  had  never  been  given, 
must  be  a  part  of  the  original  contrivance.  Hence  it 
follows,  that  whatever  private  information  the  prophet 
might  enjoy,  the  Spirit  of  God  would  never  permit  him 
to  disclose  the  ultimate  intent  and  particular  meaning 
of  the  prophecy  in  the  bare  terms  of  the  prediction.  I 
ask,  then,  by  what  means  Ave  may  discover  that  any 
particular  meaning  which  may  seem  to  suit  with  the 
prediction  was  not  in  the  prophet's  mind,  when  it  is 
proved,  that  although  it  had  been  in  the  prophet's  mind 
he  would  not  have  been  permitted  to  declare  it.  By 
A\hat  means  doth  the  adversary  jM-etend  to  show  that. 
S3 


(    60    ) 

the  applications  of  the  ancient  prophecies  which  are  made 
by  the  evangehsts  were  never  intended  or  foreseen 
by  the  prophets,  but  by  showing  that  no  such  inten- 
tion appears  in  the  terms  of  any  prediction,  considered 
in  connection  with  the  occasion  upon  whicli  it  was  de- 
hvered,  the  circumstances  in  which  the  prophet  might 
be  who  uttered  it,  and  the  persons  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed? But  where  is  the  force  of  this  conchision, — 
"  The  apostle's  sense  of  the  prophecy  is  not  to  be  found 
in  the  terms  of  the  prediction ;  therefore  it  ^\^as  not  in 
the  prophet's  mind?"  Where  is  the  force  of  this  con- 
clusiouj  if  the  mind  of  the  prophet,  possessed  of  that 
sense,  would  nevertheless  be  irresistibly  determined,  by 
the  impulse  of  the  Almighty  Spirit,  to  envelop  the  per- 
ceived sense  in  an  enigma,  which  should  remain  inex- 
plicable till  the  time  for  the  accomplishment  should  draw 
near?  And  this  must  have  been  the  case,  if  the  prophet 
was  privy  to  the  intent  of  his  prophecy,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God  was  really  his  inspirer.  Our  adversarj- 
would  prove  that  the  ancient  prophecies,  though  allowed 
to  be  divine,  give  nO  countenance  to  the  pretensions  of 
our  Lord ;  and  his  boasted  proof  is  this :  "  Your  jfirst 
teachers,"  he  says  to  Christians,  "  have  taught  you  to 
misinterpret  these  prophecies,  in  applying  them  to  your 
pretended  Messiah;  for  they  adopt  a  mode  of  interpre- 
tation which  you  must  confess  to  be  inapplicable,  un- 
less the  divine  inspiration  of  the  prophets  be  admitted.'" 
The  argument  is  no  less  incoherent  and  infirm  than  it  is 
base  and  insidious,  which  is  built,  like  this,  on  an  oc- 
cult retractation  of  what  the  disputant,  in  drawing  his 
own  state  of  the  controversy,  professes  to  concede. 

Thus  you  see,  that  though  the  general  principle  sliould 
be  admilted,  that  the  true  meaning  of  a  prophecy  cannot 
be  unknown  to  the  prophet,  yet  the  particular  conclu- 
sion, that  the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament  have  been 
misapplied  by  the  writers  of  the  New,  hath  no  connec* 


(    61     } 

tion  with  these  general  premises.  Ahhough  the  general 
maxim  could  be  proved  to  be  true,  the  particular  con- 
clusion might  nevertheless  be  false.  And  now  we  may 
safely  advance  a  step  farther,  and  say  that  this  conclu- 
sion is  proved  to  be  actually  false,  by  the  evident  agree- 
ment of  the  particulars  of  the  gospel  history  with  the 
prophecies  which  have  been  applied  to  them,  and  by 
the  mutual  harmony  and  consistence  of  the  prophecies 
so  interpreted ;  since,  whatever  might  be  in  the  mind  of 
the  prophet  or  his  contemporaries,  a  manifest  corres- 
pondence and  agreement  between  the  particulars  of  an 
event  and  the  images  of  a  prophecy  is  in  all  cases  a 
complete  evidence  that  this  prophecy  was  predictive  of 
this  event,  provided  the  prophecy  so  applied  be  con- 
sistent with  the  general  purport  of  the  system.  The 
authority  of  this  evidence  is  so  decisive,  that  the  pri- 
vate opinion  of  the  prophet,  could  it  in  any  case  be 
clearly  ascertained,  must  give  way  to  it.  If  the  prophet, 
in  any  case,  pretended  to  form  a  conjecture  concerning 
the  ultimate  intention  of  his  prophecies,  his  judgment 
must  still  bow  down  to  time,  as  a  more  informed  ex- 
positor ; — -and  this  is  an  immediate  consequence  of  that 
disguise  of  prophecy  which  renders  it  inexplicable  but 
by  time,  and  which  hath  been  shown  to  arise  from  the 
attributes  of  the  Deity.  Our  adversary,  therefore,  has 
employed  his  learning  and  his  logic  to  his  own  confusion : 
he  has  brought  himself  into  a  disgraceful  and  unpleasant 
situation,  for  a  man  who  asserts  with  confidence,  and 
would  affect  solidity  of  argument.  The  senses  of  the 
ancient  prophecies,  which  he  rejects  because  he  supposes 
them  to  have  been  unknown  to  the  prophets,  he  cannot 
prove  to  have  been  unknown  to  them;  and,  if  he  could 
prove  this,  still  the  conclusion,  upon  principles  which  in 

his  assumed  character  of  a  Deist  he  cannot  but  admit, 

the  conclusion  still  must  be  for  ignorance  In  the  prophet. 


(    62    } 

rather  than  error  or  fraud  in  the  apostles.  And  tliis  was 
indeed  the  case.  The  inspired  prophets  had  not  always 
a  distinct  foresight  of  the  particular  events  in  which  their 
prophecies  were  to  receive  their  ultimate  accomplish- 
ment;— not  but  that  the  prophets  and  the  earliest  pa- 
triarchs had  indeed  an  expectation  full  of  joy — a  glorious 
hope  of  a  deliverance  of  mankind  from  the  ruin  of  the 
fall,  and  the  later  prophets  understood  that  the  deliver- 
ance was  to  be  effected  by  a  descendant  of  the  royal 
stock  of  David ;  but,  of  the  particulars  of  our  Saviour's 
life — of  the  particular  doctrines  he  was  to  teach — of  the 
particular  sufferings  he  was  to  undergo — of  the  means 
by  which  the  true  religion  was  to  be  propagated, — of 
these  things  they  had  no  distinct  and  particular  foreknow- 
ledge. That  they  had  it  not,  is  implied  in  the  text ;  but 
it  is  more  explicitly  affirmed  by  St.  Peter,  in  his  first 
epistle.  "  Of  which  sulvation"-^-f.  e.  of  the  salvation  of 
the  souls  of  men,  purchased  by  our  Lord  Christ  Jesus, 
— "  of  which  salvation  the  prophets  have  inquired  and 
searched  diligently,  who  prophesied  of  the  grace  that 
should  come  unto  you ;  searching  what  or  what  manner 
of  time  the  Spirit  of  Christ  which  was  in  them  did  sig- 
nify, when  it  testified  beforehand  the  sufferings  of  Christ 
and  the  glory  that  should  follow."  Here,  you  see,  is  an 
explicit  assertion  that  the  particulars  of  the  gospel  dis- 
pensation, testified  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  the  Omnis- 
cient Spirit  of  the  Father  and  the  Son,  which  was  in  the 
prophets,  were  matters  of  anxious  search  and  diligent 
inquiry  to  the  spirit  of  the  prophet.  But  what  is  once 
known  and  clearly  understood  is  no  longer  an  object  of 
inquiry  and  search  to  him  who  knows  and  understands  it. 
By  the  prophets,  therefore,  who  inquired  and  searched 
diligently  after  that  salvation  of  which  they  prophesied, 
liie  true^sense  of  their  own  prophecies  was  but  impcr- 
fcctly  understood. 


(    63     ) 

And  this  circumstance,  the  confessed  ignorance  of  the 
prophets  concerning  the  issue  of  their  prophecies,  is 
that  which  gives  the  testimony  that  prophecy  affords  of 
the  wise  and  powerful  providence  of  God  its  peculiar 
weight ;  for  the  evidence  of  prophecy  Kes  in  these  two 
particulars, — that  events  have  been  predicted  which 
were  not  within  human  foresight;  and  the  accomplish- 
ments of  predictions  have  been  brought  about,  which 
much  surpass  human  power  and  contrivance.  The  pre- 
diction, therefore,  was  not  from  man's  sagacity,  nor  the 
event  from  man's  will  and  design ;  and  then  the  good- 
ness of  the  end,  and  the  intricacy  of  the  contrivance, 
complete  the  proof  that  the  whole  is  of  God.  But,  if 
it  appeared  that  the  events  had  been  foreseen  by  the  pro- 
phets, a  very  important  branch  of  the  argument,  the 
exclusion  of  human  foresight,  would  be  rendered  very 
precarious.  The  infidel,  in  that  case,  would  have  said, 
*'  The  plain  fact  is,  that  these  events  were  foreseen  by 
men.  You  tell  us,  indeed,"  he  would  say  to  the  advo- 
cates of  revelation,  "  that  this  foresight  came  from  a 
preternatural  illumination  of  their  minds ;  but  this  is  a 
mere  hypothesis  of  your  own,  which  you  set  iip  be- 
cause it  best  serves  your  purpose.  All  that  appears  is, 
that  these  men  did  foresee  these  events.  On  what  prin- 
ciple their  power  of  foresight  might  depend,  is  matter 
of  doubtful  inquiry'.  Why  should  it  rather  be  referred 
to  some  inexplicable  intercourse  of  a  superior  mind 
with  the  human,  than  to  a  certain  faculty  originally  in- 
herent in  the  minds  of  those  particular  men,  the  use  of 
which  might  be  no  less  easy  and  natural  to  them  than 
the  use  of  a  more  limited  faculty  of  foresight,  and  the 
ordinary  talent  of  conjecture,  is  to  you?  Are  not  mea 
very  unequal  in  all  their  endowments  ?  And  this  being 
once  allowed,  is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  of  any  fa- 
culty or  power  which  a  man  is  seen  to  exercise,  that 


(    64    ) 

he  possesses  it  as  his  own,  in  that  degree  in  which  he  is 
seen  to  exercise  it  ?  The  prophet's  foresight,  therefore, 
of  the  things  he  did  foresee,  was  natural  to  him.  And 
why,"  the  infidel  would  add,  "  why  should  it  be  doubted 
but  that  man  hath  powers  to  effect  what  the  human  mind 
hath  power  to  prognosticate  ?"  To  such  objections,  the 
evidence  from  prophecy  would  indeed  have  been  ob- 
noxious, had  the  prophets  shown  a  clear  foreknowledge 
of  the  full  intent  and  meaning  of  their  prophecies ;  but 
the  case  being  the  reverse, — since  the  events  which  best 
correspond  with  the  prophecies,  and  put  the  system  of 
prophecy  most  in  harmony  with  itself,  were  neither  fore- 
seen by  the  prophets  nor  by  any  other  men  till  they  had 
actually  taken  place,  or  till  such  things  had  taken  place 
as  at  the  same  time  brought  these  accomplishment^ 
within  the  reach  of  human  foresight  and  put  it  beyond 
the  reach  of  human  power  to  prevent  them,  there  can 
be  no  ground  for  these  extravagant  claims  in  favour  of 
man's  sagacity  to  predict,  or  of  his  power  to  accomplish. 
Had  the  case  been  otherwise,  the  divine  inspiration  of 
the  prophets  might  still,  indeed,  have  been  an  object  of 
probable  opinion  and  rational  faith ;  but  it  becomes  as 
much  more  certain,  when  the  ignorance  of  the  prophet 
notoriously  appears,  as  the  consequence  of  a  known  fact 
or  self-evident  truth  is  more  certain  than  any  conclusion 
from  the  most  plausible  hypothesis. 

I  have  now  discussed  the  various  points  of  doctrine 
that  my  text  suggested.  You  have  seen  that  it  confutes 
those  vain  pretensions  to  an  infallible  authority  of  inter- 
pretation, which  its  meaning  hath  been  perverted  to  sup- 
port.  You  have  seen  that  it  furnishes  rules  by  which 
the  private  Christian  may  be  enabled  to  interpret  tlie 
prophecies  of  Scripture  for  himself.  You  have  seen  that 
these  rules  are  of  extensive  use,  and  ready  application. 
You  have  seen,  that,  by  virtue  of  that  peculiar  structure 


I    65     ) 

which  brings  them  under  these  rules  of  interpretation, 
the  most  multiform  of  the  Scripture  prophecies  do 
equally  with  the  most  simple  afford  a  positive  evidence 
of  God's  providential  government  of  the  world.  And, 
lastly,  you  have  seen,  that,  from  this  same  text  of  the 
apostle,  the  most  specious  objection  which  infidels  have 
ever  been  able  to  produce  against  the  argument  from 
prophecy  in  support  of  the  Christian  revelation,  receives 
a  double  answer, — one  from  the  fact  upon  which  the 
apostle  builds  his  maxim  of  interpretation,  the  other 
from  the  maxim  itself, — the  first  defeating  the  objector's 
argument,  thef  other  establishing  the  opposite  of  his  con- 
clusion. Nothing  now  remains,  but  briefly  to  obviate 
a  question  which  many  who  have  attended  to  these  dis- 
courses may,  perhaps  with  the  best  intentions,  wish  to 
put, — whether  these  rules  of  interpretation,  which  we 
have  taken  so  much  pains  to  explain  and  to  establish, 
are  sufficient  to  clear  the  prophetic  writings,  to  popular 
apprehension,  of  all  obscurity.  Length  of  time,  by  the 
changes  which  it  makes  in  the  customs  and  manners  of 
mankind,  eft  which  the  figures  of  speech  depend,  and 
by  various  other  means,  brings  an  obscurity  on  the  most 
perspicuous  writings.  Among  all  the  books  now  extant, 
none  hath  suffered  more  from  this  cause,  in  its  original 
perspicuity,  than  the  Bible ;  nor  hath  any  part  of  die 
Bible  suffered  equally  with  the  prophetic  books,  in  par- 
ticular passages :  but,  notwithstanding  the  great  and  con- 
fessed obscurity  of  particular  parts  of  the  prophecies, 
those  which  immediately  concern  the  Christian  church 
are  for  the  most  part,  so  far  at  least  as  they  are  already 
accomplished,  abundantly  perspicuous,  or  incumbered 
Avith  no  other  difficulty  than  the  apostle's  rules  of  expo- 
sition will  remove ;  nor  does  the  obscurity  of  other  parts 
at  all  lessen  the  certainty  of  the  evidence  which  these 
afford.     The  obscurity,   therefore,    of  the  prophecies. 


(     66    } 

great  as  it  is  in  certain  parts,  is  not  such,  upon  the 
whole,  as  should  discourage  the  Christian  laic  from  the 
study  of  them,  nor  such  as  will  excuse  him  under  the 
neglect  of  it.  Let  him  remember,  that  it  is  not  mine, 
but  the  apostle's  admonition,  who  would  not  enjoin  an 
useless  or  impracticable  task,  "  to  give  heed  to  the  pro- 
phetic word." 


SERMON    XIX. 


Matthew  xvi.  21. 


From  that  time  forth^  began  Jesus  to  shoxv  unto  his  dis- 
ciples^ how  that  he  must  go  unto  Jerusalem,  and  suffer 
many  things  of  the  eldei^,  aiid  chief  priests,  and  sciihes, 
and  be  killed,  and  be  raised  agai?i  the  third  day. 


1  HE  saying  of  the  prophet,  that  "  the  waj^s  and 
thoughts  of  God  are  not  like  those  of  men,"  was  never 
more  remarkably  verified  than  in  that  great  event  which 
we  this  day  commemorate,  the  death  and  passion  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  "  Without  controversy, 
great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness !"  Wonderful  in  every 
part,  but  chiefly  in  the  last  acts  of  it,  was  the  scheme  of 
man's  redemption !  That  the  author  of  life  should  him- 
self be  made  subject  unto  death — that  the  Lord  of  glory 
should  be  clothed  with  shame — that  the  Son  of  God's 
love  should  become  a  curse  for  sinful  man — that  his 
sufferings  and  humiliation  should  be  made  the  mani- 
festation of  his  glory — that  by  stooping  to  death  he 
should  conquer  death — that  the  cross  should  lift  him 
to  his  throne — that  the  height  of  human  malice  should 
]3Ut  accomplish  the  purposes  of  God's  mercy — that  the 
Devil,  in  the  persecutions  he  raised  against  our  Lord, 
should  be  the  instrument  of  his  own  final  ruin, — these 
were  mysteries  in  the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  so  contrary 
to  the  confirmed  prejudices  of  the  Jewish  people,  and  so 
far  above  the  reach  of  philosophical  investigation,  thai 


(    68    ) 

they  rendered  the  preaching  of  a  crucified  Saviour  "  a 
jitumbUng  block  to  the  Jews,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolish- 
ness." God  foreseeing  how  improbable  this  doctrine 
would  appear  to  men,  was  pleased  in  various  ways  to 
typify  and  predict  our  Saviour's  passion,  ages  before  it 
happened,  that  the  thing,  when  it  should  come  to  pass, 
might  be  known  to  be  his  work  and  counsel ;  and  our 
Lord  himself  omitted  not,  at  the  proper  season,  to  give 
his  disciples  the  most  explicit  warning  of  it,  that  an 
event  so  contrary  to  every  thing  they  had  expected  (for 
they  were  involved  in  the  common  error  of  the  Jewish 
nation  concerning  the  Messiah)  might  not  come  upon 
them  by  surprise.  "  From  that  time  forth,"  saith  the 
evangelist,  "  Jesus  began  to  show  to  his  disciples,  hov/ 
that  he  must  go  unto  Jerusalem,  and  suffer  many  things 
of  the  elders,  and  chief  priests,  and  scribes,  and  be 
killed,  and  be  raised  again  the  third  day." 

*'  From  that  time  forth." — The  fact  last  mentioned 
was  that  conversation  of  our  Lord  with  his  disciples,  in 
which  Peter  declared,  in  the  name  of  all,  that  while  the 
people  in  general  were  in  doubt  who  Jesus  might  be — 
whether  Elias,  or  Jeremias,  or  some  other  of  the  ancient 
prophets  revived — they,  his  constant  followers,  believed 
him  to  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God. 
"  From  that  time  forth,"  it  seems,  and  not  before,  Jesus 
began  to  advertise  his  disciples  of  his  approaching  death. 
It  was  a  thing  not  to  be  disclosed  till  their  faith  had  at- 
tained to  some  degree  of  constancy  and  firmness ;  but 
when  once  it  appeared  that  they  not  only  esteemed  and 
loved  their  Master  as  a  wise  and  virtuous  man — that  they 
not  only  revered  him  as  an  inspired  teacher  of  righteous- 
ness, but  that  they  believed  in  him  as  the  Christ,  the 
Son  of  God,  the  Redeemer  of  Israel,  it  then  became 
seasonable  to  remove  the  prejudices  in  which  they  had 
been  educated,  and  to  show  them  plainly  what  'that  de- 
l.i\crance  was  which  the  promised  Messiah  was  to  work. 


(    69    ) 

^for  whom,  and  by  what  means,  it  was  to  be  effected. 
It  was  time  to  extinguish  their  hopes  of  sharing  in  the 
splendours  of  an  earthly  kingdom,  and  to  prepare  a^id 
fortify  their  minds  against  all  that  "  contradiction  of 
sinners"  which  they,  with  their  Master,  were  in  this 
world  destined  to  endure.    AW,  therefore,  he  begins 
to  show  them  how  that  he  7}iust  go  to  Jerusalem,  and, 
after  much  malicious  persecution  from  the  leaders  of  the 
Jewish  people,  he  ??mst  be  killed.  The  form  of  expression 
here  is  very  remarkable  in  the  original ;  and  it  is  well 
preserved  in  our  English  translation.    He  ?mist  go— he 
7nust  suffer— he  ?mist  be  killed— he  must  be  raised  again 
on  the  third  day,— all  these  things  were  fixed  and  de- 
termined—must inevitably  be— nothing  could  prevent 
them;  and  yet  the  greater  part  of  them  were  of  a  kind 
that  might  seem  to  depend  entirely  upon  man's  frce 
agency.    To  go  or  not  to  go  to  Jerusalem  was  in  his  own 
power; 'and  the  persecution  he  met  with  there,  arising 
from  the  folly  and  the  malice  of  ignorant  and  wicked 
men,  surely  depended  upon  human  will :  yet,  by  the 
form  of  the  sentence,  these  things  are  included  under 
the  same  necessity  of  event  as  that  which  was  evidentUr 
an  immediate  effect  of  divine  power,  witliout  the  con- 
currence of  any  other  cause,  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
from  the  dead.     The  words  which  in  the  original  ex- 
press the  going— iht  suffering— iht  being  killed— \ht  be- 
ing raised  again— ?ire  all  equally  subject  to  the  verb 
which  answers  to  the  word  must  of  our  language,  and 
in  its  first  and  proper  meanfng  predicates  necessity.     As 
he  must  be  raised  on  the  third  day,  so  he  must  go,  he 
must  suffer,   he  must  be  killed.     Every  one  of  these 
events,  his  going  to   Jerusalem,  his  suffering,  and  his 
death  there— and  that  these  sufferings  and  that  death 
should  be  brought  about  by  the  malice  of  the  elders, 
^nd  chief  priests,  and  scribes,— every  one  of  these-  things 
is  plainly  announced,  as  no  less  unalterably  fixed  than 


{     70    ) 

ihc  iciunectioii  of  our  Saviour,  or  the  time  of  his  re- 
surrection— that  it  was  to  happen  on  the  third  day. 

The  previous  certainty  of  things  to  come  is  one  of 
those  truths  which  are  n6t  easily  comprehended.  The 
difficulty  seems  to  arise  from  a  habit  that  we  have  of 
measuring  all  intellectual  powers  by  the  standard  of  hu- 
man intellect.  There  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of  cer- 
tainty, absti-actedly  considered,  to  connect  it  with  past 
time  or  with  the  present,  more  than  with  the  future ; 
but  human  knowledge  extends  in  so  small  a  degree  to 
future  things,  that  scarce  any  thing  becomes  certain  to 
us  till  it  is  come  to  pass,  and  therefore  we  are  apt  to 
imagine  that  things  acquire  their  certainty  /rom  their  ac- 
complishment. But  this  is  a  gross  fallacy.  The  prooi* 
of  an  event  to  us  always  depends  either  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  others  or  the  evidence  of  our  own  senses ;  but 
the  certainty  of  events  in  themselves  arises  from  their 
natural  connection  with  their  proper  causes.  Hence,  to 
that  great  Being  who  knows  things,  not  by  testimony — 
not  by  sense,  but  by  their  causes,  as  being  himself  the 
First  Cause,  the  source  of  power  and  activity  to  all  other 
causes, — to  Him,  every  thing  that  shall  ever  be,  is  at  all 
limes  infinitely  more  certain  than  any  thing  either  past 
or  present  can  be  to  any  man,  except  perhaps  the  simple 
fact  of  his  own  existence,  and  some  of  those  necessary 
truths  which  are  evidenced  to  every  man,  jiot  by  his 
bodily  senses,  but  by  that  internal  perception  which 
seems  to  be  the  first  act  of  created  intellect. 

This  certainty,  however,  is  to  be  carefully  distin- 
guished from  a  true  necessity  inherent  in  the  nature  of 
the  thing.  A  thing  is  necessary  when  the  idea  of  ex- 
istence is  included  in  the  idea  of  the  thing  as  an  insepa- 
rable part  of  it.  Thus,  God  is  necessary ; — the  mind 
cannot  think  of  him  at  all  without  thinking  of  him  as 
existent.  The  very  notion  and  name  of  an  event  ex- 
cludes this  necessity,  which  belongs  only  to  things  un- 


(  71  ; 

caused.  The  events  of  the  created  universe  are  certain^, 
because  sufficient  causes  do,  not  because  they  must,  act 
to  their  production.  God  knoxvs  this  certainty,  because 
he  knows  the  action  of  all  these  causes,  inasmuch  as  he 
liimself  begins  it,  and  perfectly  comprehends  those  mu- 
tual connections  between  the  things  he  hath  created, 
which  render  this  a  cause,  and  that  its  effect. 

But  the  mere  certainty  of  things  to  come,  including 
in  it  even  human  actions,  is  not  all  that  is  implied  in  the 
terms  of  our  Lord's  prediction ;  which  plainly  intimate 
that  the  actions  of  men,  even  their  worst  actions,  are  in 
some  measure  comprised  in  the  design  of  Providence, 
who,  although  he  wills  not  the  evil  of  any  single  act,  un- 
doubtedly wills  the  good  in  which  the  whole  system  of 
created  agency  shall  ultimately  terminate. 

On  these  views  of  things,  and  in  particular  on  our 
Saviour's  prediction  of  his  sufferings,  in  which  these 
views  are  most  strongly  set  forth,  tJie  Calvinistic  di- 
vines endeavoured  to  establish  their  hard  doctrine  of 
arbitrary  predestination, — a  doctrine  to  which,  Avhether 
we  consider  it  in  itself,  or  in  its  consequences,  vve  may 
with  good  reason  apply  the  words  of  the  prophet,  "  It 
hath  truly  little  form  or  comeliness — litde  beauty,  that 
we  should  desire  it."  But  let  us  not  judge  uncharitably 
of  those  who  maintained  it,  nor  ascribe  to  a  morose  se- 
verity of  temper,  much  less  to  spiritual  pride,  what  is 
easily  traced  to  nobler  principles.  The  Calvinistic  pre- 
destinarians  had  found  in  the  Scriptures,  both  of  the  Old 
and  of  the  New  Testament,  the  most  explicit  asseitions 
of  God's  omniscience,  and  of  his  constant  attention  to  the 
minutest  occurrences  both  of  the  natural  and  of  the  mo- 
ral world.  These  notions  they  found  agreeable,  we  must 
not  say  to  philosophy  (for  of  that  these  pious  men  had 
but  a  scanty  portion),  but  to  what  in  many  cases  is  a 
better  guide — to  the  natural  sense  and  feeling  of  a  vir- 
tuous mind.     The  belief  that  the  world,  and  they  them- 


(    72    ) 

selves  as  a  part  bf  it,  were  under  the  immediate  care  and 
protection  of  the  wisest  and  the  best  of  beings,  had 
taken  possession  of  their  honest  hearts  more  firmly  than 
it  seems  to  do  of  some  men's  understandings ;  and  they 
set  tliemselves  to  combat  with  the  fiercest  zeal,  and 
without  any  scrupulous  examination,  every  doctrine  that 
might  seem  to  contradict  it,  and  threaten  to  rob  them  of 
the  holy  joy  and  comfort  which  flowed  from  that  per- 
suasion. They  did  not  understand  that  the  foreknow- 
ledge and  providence  of  the  Deity,  and  that  liberty 
which  doth  truly  belong  to  man  as  a  moral  agent,  are 
things  perfectly  consistent  and  naturally  connected; — 
they  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  to  deny  the  freedom  of 
human  actions.  But  this  was  a  dangerous  error;  for, 
in  truth,  the  proof  of  our  liberty  is  to  every  individual 
of  the  human  race  the  very  same,  I  am  persuaded,  with 
the  proof  of  his  existence.  I  feel  that  I  exxst^  and  I 
feeliki^i  I  "scm.  free ;  and  I  may  with  reason  turn  a  deaf 
ear  upon  every  argument  that  can  be  alleged  in  either 
case  to  disprove  my  feelings.  I  feel  that  I  have  power 
to  flee  the  danger  that  I  dread — to  pursue  the  pleasure 
that  I  covet — to  forego  the  most  inviting  pleasure  al- 
though it  be  actually  within  my  grasp,  if  I  apprehend 
that  the  present  enjoyment  may  be  the  means  of  future 
mischief— to  expose  myself  to  present  danger,  to  sub- 
mit to  present  evils,  in  order  to  secure  the  possession 
of  a  future  good ; — I  feel  that  I  have  power  to  do  the 
action  I  approve — to  abstain  from  another  that  my  con- 
science would  condemn ; — in  a  word,  I  feel  that  I  act 
from  my  own  hopes,  my  own  fears,  my  own  internal 
perceptions  of  moral  fitnesses  and  discongruities.  Happj', 
thrice  happy  they  who  act  invariably  by  these  percep- 
tions !  They  have  attained  to  the  "  glorious  liberty  of 
the  sons  of  God !"  But  whenever  I  act  from  other  mo- 
tives, I  feel  that  I  am  misled  by  my  own  passions,  my 
own  nppetitcs,  my  own  mistaken  views  of  things.    A 


(    73    ) 

feeling  always  succeeds  these  unreasonable  actions,  that, 
had  my  mind  exerted  its  natural  powers,  in  considering 
the  action  I  was  about  to  do— the  propriety  of  it  in  itself 
and  its  consequences,  I  might  and  I  should  have  acted 
Otherwise.  Having  these  feelings,  I  feel  all  that  liberty 
which  renders  the  morality  of  a  man's  actions  properly 
his  own,  and  makes  him  justly  accountable  for  his  con- 
duct.  , 

The  liberty,  therefore,  of  man,  and  the  foreknowledge 
and  providence  of  God,  are  equally  certain,  although 
the  proof  of  each  rests  on  different  principles.  Our 
feelings  prove  to  every  one  of  us  that  we  are  free :  rea- 
son and  revelation  teach  us  that  the  Deity  knows  and 
governs  all  things,-— that  even  "  the  thoughts  of  man  he 
understandeth  long  before,"— long  before  the  thoughts 

arise long  before  the  man  himself  is  born  who  is  to 

think  them.  Now,  when  two  distinct  propositions  are 
separately  proved,  each  by  its  proper  evidence,  it  is  not 
a  reason  for  denying  either,  that  the  human  mind,  upon 
the  first  hasty  view,  imagines  a  repugnance,  and  may 
perhaps  find  a  difficulty  in  connecting  them,  evea  after 
the  distinct  proof  of  each  is  clearly  perceived  and  un- 
derstood. There  is  a  wide  difference  between  a  paradox 
and  a  contradiction.  Both,  indeed,  consist  of  two  dis- 
tinct propositions ;  and  so  far  only  are  they  alike :  for,  of 
the  two  parts  of  a  contradiction,  the  one  or  the  other 
must  necessarily  be  false,-— of  a  paradox,  both  are  often 
true,  and  yet,  when  proved  to  be  true,  may  continue 
paradoxical.  This  is  the  necessary  consequence  of  our 
partial  views  of  things.  An  intellect  to  which  nothing 
should  be  paradoxical  would  be  infinite.  It  may  natu- 
rally be  supposed  that  paradoxes  must  abound  the  most 
in  metaphysics  and  divinity,  "  for  who  can  find  out  God 
unto  perfection?"— yet  they  occur  in  other  subjects; 
and  any  one  who  should  universally  refuse  his  assent  to 
propositions  separately  proved,  because  when  connected 


(    74    ) 

they  may  seem  paradoxical,  would,  in  many  instances, 
be  justly  laughed  to  scorn  by  the  masters  of  those 
sciences  which  make  the  highest  pretensions  to  certainty 
and  demonstration.  In  all  these  cases,  there  is  generally 
in  the  nature  of  things  a  limit  to  each  of  the  two  con- 
trasted propositions,  beyond  which  neither  can  be  ex- 
tended without  implying  the  falsehood  of  the  other,  and 
changing  the  paradox  into  a  contradiction ;  and  the  whole 
difficulty  of  perceiving  the  connection  and  agreement 
between  such  propositions  arises  from  this  circumstance, 
that,  by  some  inattention  of  the  mind,  these  limits  are 
overlooked.  Thus,  in  the  case  before  us,  we  must  not 
imagine  such  an  arbitrary  exercise  of  God's  power  over 
the  minds  and  wills  of  subordinate  agents,  as  should 
convert  rational  beings  into  mere  machines,  and  leave 
the  Deity  charged  with  the  follies  and  the  crimes  of 
men, — which  was  the  error  of  the  Calvinists ;  nor  must 
we,  on  the  other  hand,  set  up  such  a  liberty  of  created 
beings,  as,  necessarily  precluding  the  Divine  foreknow- 
ledge of  human  actions,  should  take  the  government  of 
the  moral  world  out  of  the  hands  of  God,  and  leave  him 
nothing  to  do  with  the  noblest  part  of  his  creation, — 
which  hath  been,  perhaps,  the  worse  error  of  some  who 
have  opposed  the  Calvinists. 

There  is  yet  another  error  upon  this  subject,  which,  I 
think,  took  its  rise  among  professed  infidels;  and  to 
them,  till  of  late,  it  hath  been  entirely  confined.  But 
some  have  appeared  among  its  modern  advocates,  ac- 
tuated, I  am  persuaded  (for  their  writings  on  this  sub- 
ject witness  it),  by  the  same  humble  spirit  of  resigned 
devotion  which  gave  birth  to  the  plan  of  arbitrary  ^pre- 
destination. Deeply  versed  in  physics,  which  the  Cal- 
vinists neglected,  these  men  wish  to  reconcile  the  notions 
<jf  God's  arbitrary  dominion,  which  they  in  common 
with  the  Calvinists  maintain,  with  what  the  others  entirely 
o\Trlooked,  the  regular  operation  of  second  causes :  and 


(     75    ) 

in  this  circumstance  lies  the  chief,  if  not  the  whole  dif- 
ference, between  the  philosophical  necessity  of  our 
subtle  moderns  and  the  predestination  of  their  more 
simple  ancestors.  And  so  far  as  these  necessarians 
maintain  the  certain  influence  of  moral  motives,  as  the 
natural  and  sufficient  means  whereby  human  actions, 
and  even  human  thoughts,  are  brought  into  that  con- 
tinued chain  of  causes  and  effects,  which,  taking  its  be- 
ginning in  the  operations  of  the  Infinite  Mind,  cannot 
but  be  fully  understood  by  him, — so  far  they  do  service 
to  the  cause  of  truth ;  placing  the  "  great  and  glorious" 
doctrines  of  foreknowledge  and  providence, — absolute 
foreknowledge — universal  providence,  upon  a  firm  and 
philosophical  foundation; — a  thing  to  be  wished  with 
respect  to  every  doctrine  of  any  practical  importance, 
whenever,  as  in  this  case,  the  great  obscurity  of  the 
subject  renders  the  interpretation  of  texts  of  Scripture 
dubious,  which,  otherwise,  taken  as  they  ought  to  be, 
in  the  plainest  and  the  most  natural  meaning  of  the 
words,  might  be  decisive.  But  when  they  go  beyond 
this, — when  they  would  represent  this  influence  of  mo- 
ral motives  as  arising  from  a  physical  necessity,  the  very 
same  with  that  which  excites  and  governs  the  motions 
of  the  inanimate  creation,  here  they  confound  Nature's 
distinctions,  and  contradict  the  very  principles  they 
would  seem  to  have  established.  The  source  of  their 
mistake  is  this,  that  they  imagine  a  similitude  between 
things  which  admit  of  no  comparison — between  the  in- 
fluence of  a  moral  motive  upon  mind,  and  that  of  me- 
chanical force  upon  matter.  A  moral  motive  and  a  me- 
chanical force  are  both  indeed  causes,  and  equally  cer- 
tain causes  each  of  its  proper  effect ;  but  they  are  causes 
in  very  different  senses  of  the  word,  and  derive  their 
energy  from  the  most  opposite  principles.  Force  is  only 
anotiicr  name  for  an  efficient  cause ;  it  is  that  which  im- 
presses motion  upon  body,  the  passive  recipient  of  a 


(     76    ) 

foreign  impulse.  A  moral  motive  is  what  is  more  signi- 
ficantly called  the  final  cause,  and  can  have  no  influence 
but  with  a  being  that  proposes  to  itself  an  end,  chooses 
means,  and  thus  puts  itself  m  action.  It  is  true,  that 
while  this  is  my  end^  and  while  I  conceive  these  to  be 
the  means,  a  definite  act  will  as  certainly  follow  that  de- 
finite choice  and  judgment  of  my  mind,  provided  I  be 
free  from  all  external  restraint  and  impediment,  as  a  de- 
terminate motion  will  be  excited  in  a  body  by  a  force 
applied  in  a  given  direction.  There  is  in  botli  cases  an 
equal  certainty  of  the  effect ;  but  the  principle  of  the 
certainty  in  the  one  case  and  in  the  other  is  entirely  dif- 
ferent, which  difference  necessarily  arises  from  the  dif- 
ferent nature  of  final  and  efficient  causes.  Every  cause, 
except  it  be  the  will  of  the  Deity  acting  to  the  first  pro- 
duction of  substances, — every  cause,  I  say,  except  this 
acting  in  this  singular  instance,  produces  its  effect  by 
acting  upon  something ;  and,  whatever  be  the  cause  that 
acts,  the  principle  of  certainty  lies  in  a  capacity,  in  the 
thing  on  which  it  acts,  of  being  affected  by  that  action. 
Now,  the  capacity  which  force,  or  an  efficient  cause,  re- 
quires in  the  object  of  its  action,  is  absolute  inertness. 
But  intelligence  and  liberty  constitute  the  capacity  of 
being  influenced  by  a  final  cause — by  a  moral  motive : 
and  to  this  very  liberty  does  this  sort  of  cause  owe  its 
whole  efiicacj^ — the  whole  certainty  of  its  operation; 
which  certainty  never  can  disprove  the  existence  of  that 
liberty  upon  which  it  is  itself  founded,  and  of  which  it 
affords  the  highest  evidence. 

These  distinctions  between  the  efficient  and  the  final 
cause  being  once  understood,  we  may  from  the  neces- 
sarian's own  principles  deduce  the  firmest  proof  of  the 
liberty  of  man :  for  since  God  foreknows  and  governs 
future  events,  so  far  as  subordinate  agents  are  concerned 
in  them,  by  the  means  of  moral  motives,  that  is,  by  final 
causes, — since  these  arc  the  engines  by  which  he  turns 


(     77    ) 

aiid  wields  the  intellectual  world,  bending  the  perverse 
wills  of  wicked  men  and  of  apostate  spirits  to  his  pur- 
pose,— and  since  these  motives  owe  their  energy — their 
whole  success,  to  the  liberty  of  the  beings  that  are  go- 
verned by  them,  it  is  in  consequence  most  certain, 
however  it  may  seem  most  strange,  that  God  could  not 
govern  the  world  as  he  does,  by  final  causes,  if  man 
were  not  free,  no  more  than  he  could  govern  the  mate- 
rial part  of  it  mechanically,  by  efficient  causes,  if  matter 
were  not  wholly  passive.  The  necessarian  does  not 
listen  to  this  argument.  He  has  furnished  himself  with 
an  expedient  to  make  room  for  the  physical  necessity  he 
would  introduce  into  what  has  been  called  the  moral 
world.  His  expedient  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  this, 
that  he  would  annihilate  the  moral  world  altogether :  he 
denies  the  existence  of  the  immaterial  principle  in  man, 
and  would  stamp  the  very  form  of  human  intellect,  that 
living  image  of  the  Divinity,  upon  the  passive  substance 
of  the  brain !  It  seems,  the  notion  of  an  active  principle 
distinct  from  the  body,  the  true  cause  of  voluntary  mo- 
tion, possessing  in  itself  the  faculties  of  thought,  desire, 
volition,  and  necessarily  surviving  the  body,  which 
principle  should  much  more  truly  than  the  body  consti- 
tute the  man, — all  this  was  a  phantom  of  heathen  philo- 
sophy, which  a  Christian,  for  that  reason  in  particular, 
should  discard.  It  is  a  new  kind  of  argument  against 
the  truth  of  a  proposition  which  a  man  might  otherwise 
be  disposed  to  receive,  that  it  hath  been  asserted  and 
maintained  by  wise,  and  good,  and  learned  men,  who  had 
spent  a  great  part  of  their  lives  in  thinking  most  intensely 
upon  the  subject.  This  is  a  nexu  way  of  managing  the 
topic  of  authorities.  When  in  the  ardour  of  contro- 
versy a  man  alleges  such  an  argument  as  this,  he  is  sel- 
dom perhaps  aware  how  little  he  is  himself  in  earnest  in 
it — how  nugatory  it  would  appear  to  him  in  any  other 
but  that  particular  instance  wherein  it  happens  to  serve 


(     78     ) 

his  purpose — how  absurd,  were  it  once  turned  against 
him.  That  acute  writer  who  would  expunge  the  doc- 
trine of  an  immaterial  soul  and  its  immortality  from  the 
creed  of  a  Christian,  because  many  who  were  destitute 
of  the  assistances  of  revelation  were  brought  by  the 
mere  light  of  nature  to  believe  it,  does  not,  I  am  well 
persuaded,  the  less  firmly  believe  the  being  and  the 
providence  of  God,  because  in  that  belief  he  happens  to 
concur  with  Socrates  and  Plato.  ' 

Let  us,  however,  turn  to  a  meditation  more  adapted 
to  this  holy  season.  Let  the  pious  Christian  in  every 
thing  look  up  to  God,  with  full  assurance  of  faith,  as  to 
the  first  mover  and  cause  of  all  things,  the  director  of 
all  events,  the  vigilant  guardian  and  omnipotent  protector 
of  the  virtuous  :  but  let  him  no  less  firmly  believe,  that 
the  morality  of  his  actions  is  his  own, — that  he  is  free 
to  stand  and  free  to  fall, — that  if  he  fall,  the  blame  is 
with  himself,  in  his  own  foolish  choice ;  God  is  blame- 
less. 

According  to  this  state  of  things,  in  which  every  thing 
is  subject  to  the  wise  control  of  God  and  human  actions, 
and  e\'en  the  liberty  of  human  actions  are  constituent 
parts  of  the  wonderful  complex  scheme  of  Providence, 
— according  to  this  state  of  things,  so  evidently  implied 
in  our  Saviour's  prediction  of  his  sufferings,  every  thing 
fell  out  in  exact  agreement,  not  only  with  this  predic- 
tion, but  also  with  the  ancient  predictions  of  the  Jewish 
prophets,  and  with  the  still  more  ancient  types  of  the 
Mosaic  law ;  and  yet  every  thing  was  brought  about  by 
the  ordinary  operation  of  second  causes,  and  in  great 
part  by  the  free  agency  of  man.  At  the  season  of  the 
passovcr,  our  blessed  Lord,  whose  present  condition  of 
humanity  imposed  upon  him  an  implicit  obedience  to 
the  positive  precepts  of  the  Mosaic  law  (which  law  was 
not  yet  abolished),  was  carried  by  motives  of  de^'otion 
to  Jerusalem.    The  chief  priests  and  scribes  assembled 


(    79    ) 

with  the  elders  in  the  hall  of  Caiphas  the  high-priest, 
to  concert  the  safest  measures  of  destroying  him.  These 
men,  in  consideration  of  their  worldly  interests,  had 
reason  to  dread  the  success  of  our  Saviour's  doctrine. 
There  was  nothing  against  which  he  had  waged  more 
constant  war,  than  that  system  of  hypocrisy  and  super- 
stition by  which  they  had  disfigured  the  true  religion, 
and  had  enslaved  the  minds  of  the  simple  multitude. 
He  had  studiously  improved  every  occasion  of  insisting 
upon  the  futility  of  their  traditions,  the  vanity  of  their 
ceremonies,  the  insincerity  of  their  devotion — of  ex- 
posing their  ignorance,  their  pride,  their  ambition,  their 
avarice.  Motives  of  interest  and  revenge  suggested  the 
resolution,  in  this  infernal  assembly,  of  seizing  the  holy 
Jesus,  and  of  putting  him  to  death.  A  party  of  their 
officers  and  servants  was  sent  immediately  to  execute 
the  first  part  of  the  horrid  purpose.  Motives  of  avarice 
had  prevailed  upon  the  sordid  mind  of  Judas  to  conspire 
with  his  master's  enemies  against  his  life.  For  a  paltry 
bribe  of  something  less  than  four  pounds — for  the  sum 
that  the  law  appointed  for  damages  to  the  owner  of  a 
slave  who  had  been  killed  accidentally  by  another  man's 
ox,  he  conducts  the  officers  of  the  great  council  to  the 
accustomed  place  of  our  Lord's  retirement,  where  Jesus 
was  at  this  time  withdrawn  to  prepare  himself,  by  prayer 
and  meditation,  against  that  trying  hour  which  he  knew 
to  be  approaching. 

Let  us  once  more  recur  to  the  words  of  our  Lord's 
prediction, — instructive  words,  upon  which  we  never 
can  too  deeply  meditate.  He  must  go — he  must  suffer 
• — he  must  be  killed.  Whence,  and  what  was  this  neces- 
sity ?— -Assuredly  no  absolute  necessity  originally  seated 
in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  that  the  Son  of  God  should 
suffer; — \\q  might  hay ^  left  the  miserable  race  of  man 
to  perish  in  their  sins.  The  Son  is  in  all  things,  but  in 
nothing  more  than  in  love  and  mercy,  the  express  image 


(    80    ) 

of  the.Fatlier.  Notwithstanding  all  that  man  could  plead 
in  extenuation  of  his  transgression  (and  somewhat  he 
had  to  plead, — the  frailty  of  his  nature — the  subtilty  of 
the  tempter),  yet  the  purposes  of  God's  moral  govern- 
ment rendered  it  unfit  to  pardon  sin  without  intercession 
and  atonement.  Compassion  instigates  the  Son  of  God 
to  pay  the  forfeit  of  our  crimes,  and  to  satisfy,  in  his 
own  person,  the  Eternal  Father's  justice.  Impelled  by 
this  necessity,  incited  by  commiseration  of  our  fallen 
state,  he  lays  aside  the  glory  "  which  he  had  with  the 
Father  before  the  world  began."  In  the  Virgin's  womb 
he  clothes  himself  with  flesh ;  and,  together  with  that 
mortal  clothing,  he  assumes  man's  perfect  nature, — a 
nature  subject  to  our  wants  and  to  our  pains,  not  insen- 
sible to  our  enjoyments,  susceptible,  as  appeared  in 
many  actions  of  his  life,  of  our  social  attachments,  and 
though  pure  from  the  stain  of  sin,  not  exempt  from  the 
feeling  of  temptation.  When  his  hour  draws  near,  this 
human  nature  shrinks  under  the  apprehension  of  pain ; 
— he  foresees,  the  accumulated  horror  of  his  approaching 
sufferings, — he  foresees  it  with  distress  and  agony. 
Where  is  the  wise  disputer  of  the  world  who  says  that 
pain  and  affliction  are  not  evils? — who,  sufficient  to 
himself,  indifferent  to  things  external,  boasts  that  he 
would  be  unmoved  in  calamity,  at  ease  in  torment? 
Bring  him  to  Gethsemane :  there  shall  he  see  a  just  man 
and  perfect — a  man  whose  conscience  reproaches  him 
with  no  vice  or  folly — a  man  whose  life  hath  been  piety 
and  love,  unaffected  piety,  disinterested  love — a  man  in 
whose  ample  mind  are  hidden  all  the  treasures  of  know- 
ledge— a  man  assuredly  entitled  to  every  comfort  which 
the  consciousness  of  perfection,  of  perfect  virtue  and  of 
perfect  wisdom,  can  bestow, — he  shall  see  this  wise, 
this  good,  this  perfect  man,  this  man  in  union  Avith  Di- 
vinity, overwhelmed  with  grief  and  tribulation.  "  Surely 
he  bears  our  griefs,  he  carries  our  sorrows,  he  undergoes 


(     81     ) 

the  chastisement  of  our  peace."  See  his  mortified  looks, 
his  troubled  gestures !  See  the  bloody  sweat !  strange 
symptom  of  the  unuttered  pangs  that  rend  his  righteous 
heart.  See  him  prostrate  on  the  earth  in  anxious  sup- 
plication. Humble  thyself,  O  vain  philosophy !  dismiss 
thy  arrogant  maxims  :  learn  from  this  affecting  spectacle 
a  better  wisdom  than  thine  own ; — learn  it  of  him  who 
brought  it  from  above.  Say  not  that  affliction  is  not  an 
evil:  say  that  it  is  to  be  borne  with  humility,  as  the 
punishment  of  sin — to  be  endured  with  fortitude,  as  the 
instrument  of  good — to  be  accepted  with  thankfulness, 
as  the  discipline  of  God,  whereby  he  trains  his  sons  to 
virtue,  and  fits  the  virtuous  for  glory ;  but  confess  that 
it  is  that  which  the  most  perfect  natures  do  the  most  ab- 
hor,— that  which  it  is  the  wisdom  of  man,  with  due 
submission  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  to  shun. 

Our  Saviour,  in  the  anguish  of  his  soul,  but  with 
perfect  resignation  to  the  Father's  will,  prays  that,  if 
possible,  the  cup  of  bitterness  may  pass  by  him.  The 
counsels  of  God  are  founded  on  unerring  wisdom ;  they 
cannot  be  reversed  or  changed.  The  awful  sentence  is 
gone  forth,  "Without  blood  there  is  no  remission!" 
"  Awake,  O  sword !  against  my  shepherd,  and  against 
the  man  that  is  my  fellow,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts." 
Love  to  man,  joined  with  a  zeal  for  the  honour  and  sup- 
port of  the  Father's  government, — these  motives,  which 
first  engaged  him  in  the  painful  work  of  our  redemption, 
prevail  over  his  human  feelings  ;  and  farther  fortified  by 
a  vision  from  heaven,  he  determines  to  meet  the  malice 
of  his  enemies ;  and  when  the  officers  of  the  Sanhedrim 
appear  with  Judas  at  their  head,  he  summons  not  those 
legions  of  angels  which  were  ever  in  readiness  to  attend 
his  call, — he  puts  not  forth  the  powers  that  resided  in 
him, — he  commands  his  attendants  to  sheath  the  swords 
already  drawn  in  his  defence, — he  repairs  the  violence 
that  one  of  them  already  had  committed, — and  after 


(     82     ) 

such  rebuke  to  the  traitor,  and  such  expostulations  with 
the  officers,  as  might  show  them  that  he  knew  every 
particular  of  the  conspiracy,  and  was  aware  of  all  that 
was  intended,  he  surrenders  himself  without  resistance, 
thus  verifying  the  ancient  prediction,  "  He  was  led  like 
a  lamb  to  the  slaughter;  and  as  a  sheep  before  the 
shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his  mouth." 

The  chief  priests  and  elders  were  unwilling  to  put 
him  to  death  by  their  own  authority,  lest  they  should 
incur  the  charge  of  tumult  and  sedition ;  for  Judea  being 
at  this  time  a  Roman  province,  death  could  not  regu- 
larly be  inflicted  without  the  permission  at  least  of  the 
Roman  governor,  and  they  were  desirous  of  putting  the 
face  of  public  justice  upon  the  whole  of  the  transaction. 
Cool  and  crafty  in  their  malice,  they  present  him  before 
Pilate,  and,  urging  the  complicated  charge  of  blasphemy 
and  sedition,  insist  upon  his  death.  Pilate  well  under- 
stood that  both  these  accusations  were  groundless :  but 
he  was  very  unpopular  in  his  province,  which  he  is  said 
to  have  ruled  with  a  rod  of  iron.  He  was  given  to  un- 
derstand, that  if  he  stood  forth  as  the  friend  of  Jesus,  he 
would  himself  incur  the  accusation  of  traiterous  designs. 
He  took  the  alarm  at  this.  He  saw  that  complaints 
might  be  carried  to  Rome:  he  well  knew  the  jealous 
temper  of  the  Emperor  Tiberius,  ever  ready  to  listen 
to  complaints  against  his  provincial  governors — cruel 
and  implacable  in  his  resentments  :  he  thought  the  pre- 
sent opportunity  was  not  to  be  missed  of  doing  the  Jews 
a  pleasure,  by  throwing  away  the  life,  as  he  conceived, 
of  an  inconsiderable  friendless  man,  who,  when  once 
he  was  gone,  would  never  be  inquired  after.  And  from 
these  motives  of  selfish  cunning  and  guilty  fear,  Pilate, 
against  the  remonstrances  of  his  conscience  and  the  warn- 
ings of  Heaven,  consented  to  our  Saviour's  death. 

The  execution  of  the  Roman  governor's  sentence  fell 
in  course  upon  the  Roman  soldiers,  and  this  insured  that 


(    83     ) 

particular  kind  of  death  which  our  Lord  had  himself 
predicted ;  for  crucifixion  was  not  the  punishment  which 
the  Jewish  law  appointed  for  the  crimes  wherewith  Jesus 
was  charged,  but  it  was  one  which  the  Romans  inflicted 
upon  offenders  of  the  meanest  condition,  or  those  who  had 
been  guilty  of  the  most  atrocious  and  flagitious  crimes. 
The  living  body  of  the  sufferer  was  fastened  to  two 
cross  pieces  of  wood,  by  nails  driven  through  the  hands 
and  feet ;  the  feet  being  nailed  to  the  upright  post,  and 
the  hands  to  the  two  extremities  of  the  transverse  beam. 
In  this  situation,  the  miserable  objects  of  this  barbarous 
punishment  were  left  to  consume  in  lingering  and  dread- 
ful torments ;  for  as  none  of  the  parts  essential  to  life 
was  immediately  injured,  none  of  the  vital  actions  im- 
mediately impeded,  and  none  of  the  larger  blood  vessels 
set  open,  the  death  was  necessarily  slow ;  and  the  mul- 
titude of  nerves  that  terminate  in  the  hands  and  feet 
giving  those  parts  the  nicest  sensibility,  rendered  the 
sufferings  exquisite. 

Such  was  the  death  to  which  the  unrelenting  malice 
of  his  enemies  consigned  the  meek  and  holy  Jesus.  I 
must  not  farther  pursue  the  detail  of  those  minute  oc- 
currences, in  which,  though  brought  about  by  natural 
and  common  causes,  the  ancient  prophecies  concerning 
the  circumstances  of  our  Saviour's  passion  were  remark- 
ably fulfilled.  It  was  not  till  every  tittle  was  fulfilled, 
that  the  patient  Son  of  God,  as  if  then  and  not  before  at 
liberty  to  depart,  said,  "It  is  finished!"  bowed  .his 
anointed  head,  and  rendered  up  the  ghost.  Wonderful 
catastrophe!  replete  with  mysteries;  among  which  the 
harmony  of  divine  providence  and  human  liberty  is  not 
the  least.  Mechanical  causes,  governed  by  a  single  in- 
tellect, could  not  with  more  certainty  have  wrought  the 
predetermined  effect :  independent  beings  could  not  have 
pursued  with  greater  liberty,  than  the  persons  concerned 
in  this  horrid  transaction,  each  his  separate  design. 
36 


(     84     ) 

*'  It  is  JinishedP''  Holy  victim!  thy  suft'erings  arc 
finished!  All  is  finished,  that  wicked  men  were  won- 
derfully destined  to  contribute  towards  the  general  de- 
liverance !  What  remains,  infinite  power  and  infinite 
mercy  shall  accomplish.  The  disciples,  those  few  of 
them  who  had  the  courage  to  be  present  at  this  dismal 
scene,  hang  their  he^ds  in  sorrowful  despondency, 
and  seem  to  have  abandoned  the  hope  that  this  was 
He  who  should  redeem  Israel.  But  Israel  is  redeemed. 
The  high  sacrifice,  appointed  before  the  foundation 
of  the  world,  typified  in  all  the  sacrifices  of  the  law, 
is  now  slain,  and  is  accepted.  That  Jesus  who  accord- 
ing to  his  o\wn  prediction  hath  expired  on  the  cross^ 
shall,  according  to  his  own  prediction,  be  raised  again 
on  the  third  day.  He  is  raised, — he  is  entered  into 
glory, — he  is  sitten  down  for  ever  at  the  right  hand  of 
the  Majesty  on  high :  there  he  pleads  the  merit  of  his 
blood  in  behalf  of  those  crying  sins  that  caused  it  to  be 
shed.  Nor  does  he  plead  in  vain.  The  final  judgment 
is  committed  to  him ;  and  the  greatest  of  sinners  that 
will  but  forsake  theif  evil  ways  have  no  reason  to  fear 
the  severity  of  a  judge  who  hath  himself  been  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  On  the  other  hand, 
let  not  any  deceive  themselves  with  a  vain  reliance  on 
his  merits,  who  after  all  that  the  Son  of  God  hath  done 
and  suffered  for  them,  remain  impenitent.  The  sacri- 
fice of  the  cross  was  no  less  a  display  of  the  just  severity 
than  of  the  tender  mercy  of  God.  The  authority  of  his 
government  must  be  maintained,  lliis  rendered  inter- 
cession and  atonement  necessary  for  the  pardon  of  sin  in 
the  first  instance, — the  most  meritorious  intercession, 
the  highest  atonement.  For  those  "  who  despise  so  gi-eat 
salvation,"  who  cannot  be  reclaimed  by  the  promises 
and  threatenings  of  the  gospel — by  the  warnings  of  God's 
Avrath — by  llie  assurances  of  mercy — by  the  contem- 
nlation  of  their  Saviour's  love, — for  those  who  cannot 


(     85    ) 

be  reclaimed  by  these  powerful  motives  from  obstinate 
courses  of  wilful  vice,  there  assuredly  "  remains  no 
more  sacrifice  for  sin,  but  a  certain  fearful  looking-for 
of  fiery  indignation,"  which  at  the  last  day  shall  burn 
with  inextinguishable  rage  against  these  incorrigible  ad- 
versaries of  God  and  goodness.  Grant,  O  Lord,  that 
all  we  who  are  this  day  assembled  before  thee,  lamentmg 
our  sins  and  imploring  thy  mercy,  may  be  permitted, 
through  the  intercession  of  thy  Son,  to  escape  the  ever- 
lasting horrors  of  that  second  death ! 


SERMON    XX. 


1  PcTER  iii.  18,  19,  20. 

Being  put  to  death  in  the  fleshy  but  quickened  by 

the  Spirit;  by  which  also  he  went  and  preached  unto 
the  spirits  in  prison,  which  sometime  were  disobedient^ 
when  once  the  long-suffering  of  God  waited  i?i  the  days 
ef  Noah. 


In  the  first  rudiments  of  our  Christian  faith,  comprised 
in  the  Apostles'  Creed,  which  we  are  made  to  get  by 
heart  in  our  earliest  infancy,  we  are  taught  to  believe 
that  "  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  descended  into  hell;"  and' 
this  belief  is  solemnly  professed  by  every  member  of  the 
congregation,  when  that  creed  is  repeated  in  the  daily 
service  of  the  church.  And  it  seemed  of  so  much  im- 
portance that  it  should  be  distinctly  acknowledged  by 
the  Church  of  England,  when  ^ve  separated  from  the 
Roman  communion,  that  our  reformers  thought  proper 
to  make  it  by  itself  the  subject  of  one  of  the  articles  of 
religion.  They  were  aware  that  upon  the  fact  of  our 
Lord's  descent  into  hell  the  Church  of  Rome  pretended 
to  build  her  doctrine  of  purgatory,  which  they  justly 
esteemed  one  of  her  worst  corruptions ;  but,  apprehen- 
sive that  the  seal  of  reformation  might  in  this,  as  in 
some  other  instances,  carry  men  too  far,  and  induce 
them  to  reject  a  most  important  truth,  on  which  a  dan- 
gerous error  had  been  once  ingrafted, — to  prevent  this 
intemperance  of  reform,  they  assert,  in  the  third  article 


(     87    ) 

of  the  Thirty-nine,  "  That  as  Christ  died  for  us  and 
was  buried,  so  it  is  to  be  believed  that  he  went  down  into 
hell."  The  terms  in  which  they  state  the  proposition, 
imply  that  Christ's  going  down  into  hell  is  a  matter  of 
no  less  importance  to  be  believed  than  that  he  died  upon 
the  cross  for  men — is  no  less  a  plain  matter  of  fact  in  the 
history  of  our  Lord's  life  and  death  than  the  burial  of  his 
dead  body.  It  should  seem,  that  what  is  thus  taught 
among  the  first  things  which  children  learn,  should  be 
among  the  plainest, — that  what  is  thus  laid  down  as  a 
matter  of  the  same  necessity  to  be  believed  as  our  Lord's 
passion  and  atonement,  should  be  among  the  least  dis- 
puted,— that  what  every  Christian  is  required  to  ac- 
knowledge as  his  own  belief,  in  the  daily  assemblies 
of  the  faithful,  should  little  need  either  explanation  or 
proof  to  any  that  have  been  instructed  in  the  very  first 
principles  only  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ.  But  so  it  is, 
that  what  the  sagacity  of  our  reformers  foresaw,  the 
precaution  which  they  used  has  not  prevented.  The 
truth  itself  has  been  brought  into  discredit  by  the  errors 
with  which  it  has  been  adulterated;  and  such  has 
been  the  industry  of  modern  refinement,  and  unfortu- 
nately so  great  has  been  its  success,  that  doubts  have 
been  raised  about  the  sense  of  this  plain  article  of  our 
creed  by  some,  and  by  others  about  the  tnith  and  au- 
thenticity of  it.  It  will  therefore  be  no  unprofitable 
undertaking  to  show  that  the  assertion  in  the  Apostles' 
Creed,  that  "  our  Lord  descended  into  hell,"  is  to  be 
taken  as  a  plain  matter  of  fact  in  the  literal  meaning 
of  the  words, — to  show  what  proof  of  this  fact  we 
have  in  holy  writ, — and,  lastly,  to  show  the  great  use 
and  importance  of  the  fact  as  a  point  of  Christian  doc- 
trine. 

First,  then,  for  the  sense  of  the  proposition,  *^  He- 
descended  into  hell."  If  we  consider  the  words  as  they 
stand  in  the  Creed  itself,  and  in  connection  Avith  wha^ 


(     88     } 

'immediately  precedes  and  follows  them,  they  appear 
evidently  to  contain  a  declaration  of  something  which 
our  Lord  performed — some  going  of  our  Lord  to  a  place 
called  "  hell,"  in  the  interval  of  time  between  the  burial 
of  his  dead  body  and  his  rising  to  life  again  on  the  third 
day  after  that  interment ;  for  thus  speaks  the  Creed  of 
Jesus  Christ :  "  — was  crucified,  dead,  and  buried ;  he 
descended  into  hell;  the  third  day  he  rose  again  from 
the  dead."  It  is  evident  that  the  descending  into  hell  is 
spoken  of  as  an  action  of  our  Lord,  but  as  an  action 
performed  by  him  after  he  was  dead  and  buried,  and 
before  he  rose  again.  In  the  body,  our  dead  Lord,  more 
than  any  other  dead  man,  could  perform  no  action  ;  for 
the'  very  notion  of  death  is,  that  all  sensation,  and  ac- 
tivity, and  power  of  motion  of  the  body,  is  in  that  state 
of  the  man  extinguished.  This,  therefore,  was  an  act 
of  that  part  of  the  man  wliich  continues  active  after 
death, — that  is,  of  the  soul  separated  by  death  from  the 
body,-— as  the  interment  must  be  understood  of  the  body 
apart  from  the  soul.  The  dead  body  could  no  more  go 
into  hell  than  the  living  soul  could  be  laid  in  the  grave. 
Considering  the  words,  therefore,  as  they  stand  in  the 
Creed  as  the  church  now  receives  it,  they  seem  as  little 
capable  of  any  variety  of  meaning,  and  almost  as  little 
to  require  explanation,  as  the  word  "  buried."  That 
word  describes  not  more  plainly,  to  the  apprehensions 
of  all  men,  what  was  done  with  the  inanimate  body  of 
our  crucified  Lord,  than  these  words  declare  what  was 
done  by  his  rational  soul  in  its  intermediate  state.  The 
only  question  that  can  possibly  arise  to  a  plain  man's  un- 
derstanding is,  where  or  what  the  place  may  be  which  is 
here  called  hell,  to  which  it  is  said  our  I^ord  in  the 
state  of  death  descended. 

It  is  evident  that  tliis  nuist  be  some  place  below  the 
surface  of  the  earth;  for  it  is  said  that  he  "  descended," 
that  is,  he  went  down   to  it.     Our  Lord's  death  took 


(    89    ) 

place  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth,  where  the  human 
race  inhabit ;  that,  therefore,  and  none  higher,  is  the 
place  from  which  he  descended;  of  consequence,  the 
place  to  which  he  went  by  descent  was  below  it ;  and  it 
is  with  relation  to  these  parts  below  the  surface  that  his 
rising  to  life  on  the  third  day  must  be  understood.  This 
was  only  a  return  from  the  nether  regions  to  the  realms 
of  life  and  day,  from  which  he  had  descended, — not  his 
ascension  into  heaven,  which  was  a  subsequent  event, 
and  makes  a  distinct  article  in  the  Creed. 

But  akhough  the  hell  to  which  our  Lord  descended 
Avas  indeed  below,  as  the  word  "  descent"  implies,  it 
is  by  no  means  to  be  understood  of  the  place  of  torment. 
This  is  a  point  which  requires  elucidation,  to  prevent 
a  mistake  into  which  the  unlearned  easily  might  foil. 
The  word  "hell"  is  so  often  applied,  in  common  speecli, 
and  in  the  English  translation  of  the  New  Testament,  to 
the  place  of  torment,  that  the  genuine  meaning  of  the 
word  (in  which,  however,  it  is  used  in  many  passages 
of  the  English  Bible)  is  almost  forgotten ;  and  the  com- 
mon people  never  hear  of  hell  but  their  thoughts  are 
carried  to  that  dismal  place  "  where  the  fallen  angels  are 
kept  in  everlasting  chains  under  darkness  unto  the  judg- 
ment of  the  great  day."  But  the  word,  in  its  natural 
import,  signifies  only  that  invisible  place  which  is  the 
appointed  habitation  of  departed  souls  in  the  interval  be- 
tween death  and  the  general  resurrection.  That  such  a 
place  must  be  is  indisputable ;  for  when  man  dieth,  his 
soul  dieth  not,  but  returneth  unto  him  that  gave  it, 
to  be  disposed  of  at  his  will  and  pleasure, — which  is 
clearly  implied  in  that  admonition  of  our  Saviour,  "  Fear 
not  them  which  kill  the  body,  but  cannot  kill  the  soul." 
But  the  soul,  existing  after  death,  and  separated  from 
the  body,  though  of  a  nature  immaterial,  must  be  in 
some  place:  for  however  metaphysicians  may  talk, of 
place  as  one  of  the  adjuncts  of  body,  as  if  nothing  but 


(     90     ) 

gross  sensible  body  could  be  limited  to  a  place,  to  exist 
without  relation  to  place  seems  to  be  one  of  the  incom- 
municable perfections  of  the  Divine  Being;  and  it  is 
hardly  to  be  conceived  that  any  created  spirit,  of  how- 
ever high  an  order,  can  be  without  locality,  or  without 
such  determination  of  its  existence  at  any  given  time  to 
some  certain  place,  that  it  shall  be  true  to  say  of  it 
"  Here  it  is,  and  not  elsewhere."  That  such  at  least 
is  the  condition  of  the  human  soul,  were  it  seasonable 
to  go  into  so  abstruse  a  disquisition,  might  be  proved,  I 
think,  indisputably  from  holy  writ.  Assuming,  there- 
fore, that  every  departed  soul  has  its  place  of  residence, 
it  would  be  reasonable  to  suppose,  if  revelation  were 
silent  on  the  subject,  tliat  a  common  mansion  is  provided 
for  them  all,  their  nature  beiiiig  similar;  since  we  see 
throughout  all  nature  creatures  of  the  same  sort  placed 
together  in  the  same  element.  But  revelation  is  not  si- 
lent. The  sacred  writers  of  the  Old  Testament  speak 
of  such  a  common  mansion  in  the  inner  parts  of  the 
earth :  and  we  find  the  same  opinion  so  general  among 
the  heathen  writers  of  antiquity,  that  it  is  more  probable 
that  it  had  its  rise  in  the  earliest  patriarchal  revelations 
than  in  the  imaginations  of  man,  or  in  poetical  fiction. 
The  notion  is  confirmed  by  the  language  of  the  writers  of 
the  New  Testament,  with  this  additional  circumstance, 
that  they  divide  this  central  mansion  of  the  dead  into 
two  distinct  regions,  for  the  separate  lodging  of  the  souls 
of  the  righteous  and  the  reprobate.  In  this,  too,  they 
have  the  concurrence  of  the  earliest  heathen  poets,  who 
placed  the  good  and  the  bad  in  separate  divisions  of  the 
central  region.  The  name  which  the  Hebrew  writers 
gave  to  this  mansion  of  departed  souls  (without  regard 
to  any  such  division)  expresses  only  that  it  is  a  place 
unknown,  about  which  all  are  curious  and  inquisitive. 
The  writers  of  tlie  New  Testament  adopted  the  name 
\vlnch  the  earliest  Greek  writers  had  given  it,  which 


i     91     ) 

describes  it  by  the  single  property  of  iiulsibility.  Bui 
for  the  place  of  torment  by  itself,  they  Imd  quite  another 
appellation.  The  English  word  *'  hell,"  in  its  primary 
and  natural  meaning,  signifies  nothing  more  thaii  "  the 
unseen  and  covered  place,"  and  is  properly  used,  both  in 
the  Old  and  the  New  Testament,  to  render  the  Hebrew 
word  in  the  one,  and  the  Greek  word  in  the  other, 
which  denote  tlie  invisible  mansion  of  disembodied 
souls,  without  any  reference  to  suffering.  But  being 
used  also  in  the  translation  of  the  New  Testament  for 
that  other  word  which  properly  denotes  the  place  of  tor- 
ment, the  good  sense  of  the  \vord,  if  we  may  so  call  it, 
is  unfortunately  forgotten,  and  the  common  people  knov; 
of  no  other  hell  but  that  of  the  burning  lake. 

This  certainly  was  not  the  hell  to  which  the  soul  of 
Christ  descended.  He  descended  to  hell  properly  so 
called, — to  the  invisible  mansion  of  departed  spirits, 
and  to  that  part  of  it  where  the  souls  of  the  faithful, 
when  they  are  delivered  from  the  burthen  of  the  flesh, 
are  in  joy  and  felicity. 

That  he  should  go  to  this  place  u-as  a  necessary  branch 
(jf  the  general  scheme  and  project  of  redemption,  which 
required  that  the  Divine  W'Qvd  should  take  our  nature 
upon  him,  and  fulfil  the  entire  condition  of  humanity  in 
cvciy  period  and  stage  of  man's  cxi-.tence,  from  the 
commencement  of  life,  in  the  mother's  \^'omb,  to  the 
extinction  and  the  renovation  of  it.  I'he  same  wonder- 
lul  sclieme  of  humiliation  which  required  that  the  Son 
should  be  conceived,  and  born,  and  put  to  death,  made 
re  equally  necessary  that  his  soul,  in  its  intermediate 
>tate,  should  be  gathered  to  the  souls  of  the  departed 
saints. 

That  the  invisible  place  of  their  residence  is  t'ne  hell  tc 
w  hich  our  Lord  descended,  is  evident  from  the  terms  of 
his  own  promise  to  tJie  repentant  thief  upon  the  cross. 
''  Vrrilv  7  t-^v  nrX'}  ^It-'^.  to-dav  shalt  thon  be  "'ith  m*"" 


[     ^'2     J 

111  paradise."  Paradise  was  certainly  some  place  where 
our  Lord  was  to  be  on  the  \  ery  day  on  which  he  suffer- 
ed, and  where  the  companion  of  his  sufferings  was  to  be 
with  him.  It  was  not  heaven;  for  to  heaven  our  Lord 
after  his  death  ascended  not  till  after  his  resurrection,  as 
appears  from  his  own  Avords  to  Mary  Magdalen.  He 
was  not  therefore  in  heaven  on  the  day  of  the  crucifix- 
ion ;  and  where  he  was  not  the  thief  could  not  be  widi 
him.  It  was  no  place  of  torment;  for  to  any  such  place 
tlie  name  of  paradise  never  was  applied.  It  could  be  no 
other  than  that  region  of  repose  and  rest  where  the  souls 
of  the  righteous  abide  in  joyful  hope  of  the  consumma- 
tion of  their  bliss.  And  upon  this  single  text  we  might 
safely  rest  the  proof  of  this  article  of  our  Creed  in  the 
sense  in  which  we  explain  it, — a  sense  so  plain  and  pro- 
minent, in  the  bare  words,  to  every  one  who  is  not  mis- 
led by  the  popular  misapplication  of  the  word  "  hell," 
that  it  never  would  have  been  set  aside  to  make  room 
for  expositions  of  more  refinement,  much  less  would 
the  authenticity  of  the  article  ever  even  have  been  ques- 
tioned, but  for  the  countenance  which  it  was  supposed 
to  give  to  the  doctrine  of  purgatory  as  taught  in  the 
Church  of  Rome,  with  which  however  it  has  not  even  a 
remote  connection.  Time  will  not  permit  me  to  enter 
into  a  particular  examination  of  the  different  interpreta- 
tions of  this  article  which  have  been  attempted  by  those 
who  have  not  gone  the  length  of  proposing  to  expunge  it 
from  the  Creed,  because  they  were  well  aware,  that  al- 
though it  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  copy  of  the  Creed 
now  extant  of  an  earlier  date  than  the  latter  end  of  the 
fourth  century,  yet  tl"iat  Christ,  in  some  sense  or  other, 
descended  into  hell  was  the  unanimous  belief  of  the 
Chiistian  church  from  the  earliest  ages.  I  will  offer  only 
this  general  observation, — that  the  interpretation  which 
I  have  given  is  the  only  literal  interpretation  which  the 
words  will  bear,  unless  we  would  admit  the  extravagant 


(     93     ) 

assertion,  as  to  me  it  seems,  of  the  venerable  Calvin, 
that  our  blessed  Lord  actually  went  down  to  the  place 
of  torment,  and  there  sustained  (horrible  to  think  or 
mention!)  the  pains  of  a  reprobate  soul  in  punishment, 
— a  notion  evidentlj^  confuted  by  our  Lord's  own  de- 
scription of  the  place  where  the  companion  of  his  suffer- 
ings on  the  cross  was  to  be  with  him  on  the  very  day  of 
the  crucifixion.  This  sense  being  thus  confuted,  I  say 
the  personal  descent  of  our  Lord  to  that  region  where 
the  souls  of  the  righteous  rest  in  hope,  is  the  only  literal 
interpretation  which  the  words  of  the  article  \vill  bear; 
and  that  any  figurative  interpretation  of  the  words  of  a 
creed  or  formulary  of  faith  arc  inadmissible ;  for,  in  such 
a  composition,  intended  to  convey  the  knowledge  of  the 
most  important  truths  to  the  most  ordinary  understand- 
ings, the  ornamental  figures  of  rhetoric  or  poetry  would 
be  no  less  out  of  place  than  in  the  opinion  of  a  judge 
upon  a  question  of  law,  or  in  a  mathematical  demonstra- 
tion. They  could  have  no  other  effect  than  to  intro- 
duce doubt,  where  every  thing  ought  to  be  precise  and 
unequivocal.  Without  entering,  therefore,  into  a  par- 
ticular confutation  of  the  figurative  interpretations  that 
have  been  offered  of  this  article  of  the  Creed,  I  shall  pro- 
ceed at  once  to  show  what  proof  we  find  in  Scripture  of 
the  fact  averred,  according  to  the  literal  meaning  of  the 
words,  that  "  Christ  descended  into  hell." 

This  proof  rests,  I  think,  principally  upon  three  texts; 
of  Scripture,  in  addition  to  that  which  I  have  already 
mentioned  as  affording  by  itself  ample  confirmation  of 
the  truth  of  the  proposition,  namely,  our  Lord's  promise 
to  the  penitent  thief  upon  the  cross.  But  there  are  three 
other  texts  which  conspire  with  this  to  put  the  matter 
out  of  doubt.  The  first  is  that  text  of  the  psalmist 
which  was  alleged  by  St.  Peter,  in  his  first  sermon  on 
the  day  of  Pentecost,  as  a  prophecy  concerning  Christ, 
\erified  in  his  resiirrection  from  the  dead.     "  'J'hou  wilt 


I     94    } 

not  leave  iny  soul  in  hell,  neither  wiit  tivoii  suffer  thy 
Holy  One  to  sec  corruption."  The  apostle  having  re- 
cited these  words  of  the  psalmist,  says  they  were  not 
spoken  by  David  of  himself,  but  that  David  being  a  pro- 
phet spake  of  the  resurrection  oi'  Christ, — that  his  soul 
was  not  left  iahell,  neither  did  his  flesh  sec  corruption. 
From  this  text,  if  there  were  no  other,  the  article,  in 
T:he  sense  in  which  \\c  have  explained  it,  is  clearly  and 
infallibly  deduced ;  for  if  die  soul  of  Christ  were  not  left 
in  hell  at  his  resurrection,  then  it  was  in  hell  be/ore  his 
resurrection.  But  it  was  not  there  either  before  his  death 
or  after  his  resurrection,  for  that  never  was  imagined: 
therefore  it  descended  into  hell  after  his  death,  and  be- 
fore his  resurrection;  for  as  his  flesh,  by  virtue  of  the 
divine  promise,  saw  no  corruption,  although  it  was  in 
the  grave,  the  place  of  corruption,  where  it  remained 
until  his  resurrection,  so  his  soul,  which  by  virtue  of 
the  like  promise  was  not  left  in  hell,  was  in  that  hell 
where  it  was  not  left,  until  the  time  came  for  its  reunion 
to  the  body  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  resurrection. 
Hence  it  is  so  clearly  evinced  that  the  soul  of  Christ 
was  in  the  place  called  hell,  "  that  none  but  an  infidel," 
saith  St.  Augustine,  "  can  deny  it." 

Another  text  which  carries  us  to  the  same  conclusion, 
is  in  the  fourdi  chapter  of  St.  Paul's  epistle  to  the  Ephe- 
^iians,  in  the  apostle's  reasoning  upon  a  passage  of  the 
sixty-eighth  psalm,  which  he  applies  as  prophetic  of  the 
various  gifts  wliich  Christ,  after  his  ascension,  conferred 
upon  the  members  of  his  church.  The  psalmist  speaks 
to  this  cifect,  as  he  is  cited  by  the  aposlle  :  "  ^^'hen  he 
ascended  up  on  liigh,  he  led  captivity  captive,  and  gave 
gifts  unto  men."  "  Now  that  he  ascended,"  says  the 
apostle,  arguing  upon  the  psalmist's  words,  "  what  is  it 
but  that  he  descended  first  into  the  lower  parts  of  the 
earth?" — intimating  that  the  ascending  up  on  high  of 
M  hich  the  psalmist  t:])eaks,  is  to  be  understood  in  refer 


(     95     ) 

ence  to  a  previous  descent  into  the  lowest  regions,  as  its 
opposite. 

Some,  however,  have  imagined,  that  the  descent  into 
hell  is  not  to  be  deduced  from  this  text  with  the  same 
certainty  as  from  the  former.  I'liey  imagine  something 
of  ambiguity  in  the  phrase  of  "  the  lower  parts  of  the 
earth."  Rightly  referring  the  ascending  up  on  high  to 
our  Lord's  ascension  into  heaven,  they  think  that  "  the 
lower  parts  of  the  earth"  may  signify  the  earth  generally, 
as  lower  than  the  heavens,  and  even  nothing  lower  than 
the  verj^  surface  of  it.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that 
our  Lord  speaks  of  himself  before  his  death,  while  he 
was  living  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth,  as  having  come 
down  to  it  from  heaven.  Nevertheless,  "  the  lower 
parts  of  the  earth,"  in  the  Greek  language,  in  which  the 
apostle  writes,  is  a  periphrasis  for  "  hell"  in  the  proper 
sense  of  that  word,  as  the  invisible  mansion  of  departed 
spirits.  The  phrase  is  so  perfectly  equivalent  to  the 
word  "  hell,"  that  we  find  it  used  instead  of  that  word 
in  some  of  the  Greek  copies  of  the  Creed,  in  this  verj^ 
article,  where  the  mention  of  our  Lord's  coming  down 
from  heaven  to  dwell  upon  the  earth  would  be  quite  out 
of  place,  after  the  mention  of  the  several  events  of  his 
birth,  crucifixion,  death,  and  burial,  in  their  natural 
order  and  succession.  But,  indeed,  this  phrase  of  the 
"  lower  parts  of  the  earth"  is  in  the  Greek  language  so 
much  a  name  for  the  central  parts  of  the  globe,  as  distin-  • 
guished  from  the  surface  or  the  outside  on  which  we 
live,  that  had  the  apostle  intended  by  this  phrase  to  de 
note  the  inhabited  surface  of  the  earth,  as  lower  than  the 
heavens,  we  may  confidently  say  his  Greek  converts  at 
Ephesus  would  not  easily  have  guessed  his  meaning. 
This  text,  therefore,  when  the  Greek  words  are  taken  in 
the  only  sense  in  which  any  writer  in  that  language  would 
have  used,  or  any  one  who  spoke  the  language  would 


(    96    ) 

have  understood  them,  expressly  affirms  a  descent  of 
Christ's  spirit  into  hell. 

A  third  scripture  which  goes  to  the  proof  of  the  same 
fact,  is  that  very  remarkable  passage  in  the  third  chapter 
of  St.  Peter's  first  epistle,  which  I  have  chosen  for  my 
text.  I  might  mention,  as  a  fourth,  another  passage  in 
the  following  chapter  of  the  same  epistle,  which  alludes 
to  the  same  event,  but  not,  I  think,  with  equal  certainty ; 
for  the  scnre  of  that  following  passage  is  indeed  de- 
pendent upon  this,  insomuch  that  any  figurative  inter- 
pretation which  would  invalidate  the  argument  we  shall 
deduce  from  this  first  passage,  would  in  equal  degree  af- 
fect the  second ;  and  no  proof  can  be  drawn  from  that  of 
Christ's  descent  into  hell,  if  none  can  be  previously 
found  in  the  words  of  my.  text. 

But  in  them,  taken  in  their  most  literal  and  obvious 
meaning,  we  find  not  only  a  distinct  assertion  of  the  fact 
that  "  Christ  descended  into  hell"  in  his  disembodied 
spirit,  but  moreover,  a  declaration  of  the  business  upon 
which  he  went  thither,  or  in  which  at  least  his  soul  was 
employed  while  it  was  there.  "  Being  put  to  death  in 
the  flesh,  but  quickened  by  the  Spirit :  by  which  also 
he  went  and  preached  unto  the  spirits  in  prison,  which 
sometime  were  disobedient."  The  interpretation  of  this 
whole  passage  turns  upon  the  expression  "  spirits  in 
prison;"  the  sense  of  which  I  shall  first,  therefore,  en- 
deavour to  ascertain,  as  the  key  to  the  meaning  of  the 
whole.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  mention,  that  "  spirits" 
here  can  signify  no  other  spirits  than  the  souls  of  men ; 
for  we  read  not  of  any  preaching  of  Christ  to  any  other 
lace  of  beings  than  mankind.  The  apostle's  assertion, 
therefore,  is  this,  tliat  Christ  went  and  preached  to  souls 
of  men  in  prison.  The  invisible  mansion  of  departed 
spirits,  though  certainly  not  a  place  of  penal  confinement 
to  the  good,  is  nevertheless  in  some  respects  a  prison. 
Tt  is  a  place  of  seclusion  from  the  external  world — a 


(    97    } 

place  of  unfinished  happiness,  consisting  in  rest,  security, 
and  hope,  more  than  in  enjoyment.  It  is  a  place  which 
the  souls  of  men  never  would  have  entered,  had  not  sin 
introduced  death,  and  from  which  there  is  no  exit  by 
any  natural  means  for  those  who  once  have  entered. 
The  deliverance  of  the  saints  from  it  is  to  be  effected  by 
Gur  Lord's  power.  It  is  described  in  the  old  Latin  lan- 
guage as  a  place  enclosed  within  an  impassable  fence ; 
and  in  the  poetical  parts  of  Scripture  it  is  represented  as 
secured  by  gates  of  brass,  which  our  Lord  is  to  batter 
down,  and  barricadoed  with  huge  massive  iron  bars, 
which  he  is  to  cut  in  sunder.  As  a  place  of  confinement, 
therefore,  though  not  of  punishment,  it  may  well  be 
called  a  prison.  The  original  woi-d,  however,  in  this 
text  of  the  aposde,  imports  not  of  necessity  so  much  as 
this,  but  merely  a  place  of  safe  keeping ;  for  so  this  pas- 
sage might  be  rendered  with  great  exactness.  "  He 
went  and  preached  to  the  spirits  in  safe  keeping."  And 
the  invisible  mansion  of  departed  souls  is  to  the  righteous 
a  place  of  safe  keeping,  where  they  are  preserved  under 
the  shadow  of  God's  right  hand,  as  their  condition  some- 
times is  described  in  Scripture,  till  the  season  shall  ar- 
rive for  their  advancement  to  their  future  glory ;  as  the 
souls  of  the  wicked,  on  the  other  hand,  are  reserved,  in 
the  other  division  of  the  same  place,  unto  the  judgment 
of  the  great  day.  Now,  if  Christ  went  and  preached  to 
souls  of  men  thus  in  prison  or  in  safe  keeping,  surely  he 
went  to  the  prison  of  their  souls,  or  to  the  place  of  their 
custody ;  and  what  place  that  should  be  but  the  hell  of 
the  Aposdes'  Creed,  to  which  our  Lord  descended,  I 
have  not  yet  met  with  the  critic  that  could  explain.  So 
clearly  does  this  text  affirm  the  fact  of  Christ's  descent 
into  hell. 

But  this  is  not  all.  It  agrees  with  the  Apostles'  jprdl^ 
in  the  time  of  this  event,  that  it  was  in  j^he  interval  be- 
tween our  Lord^s  death  and  resurrection  ;'Jhv  the  apostle 


(     98     ) 

affirms,  that  it  was  in  his  spirit,  i.  e.  in  his  disembodied 
soul,  that  Christ  went  and  preached  to  those  souls  in  saf' 
custody.  "  Being  put  to  death  in  the  flesh,  but  quick- 
ened by  the  Spirit."  *'  Quickened  by  the  Spirit." — 
The  Spirit,  in  these  English  words,  seems  to  be  put,  not 
for  the  soul  of  Christ,  but  for  the  Divine  Spirit ;  and  the 
sense  seems  to  be,  that  Christ,  after  he  was  put  to  death, 
was  raised  to  life  again  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  But  this, 
tliough  it  be  the  sense  of  the  English  translation,  and  a 
true  proposition,  is  certainly  not  the  sense  of  the  apos- 
tle's words.  It  is  of  great  importance  to  remark,  though 
it  may  seem  a  grammatical  nicety,  that  the  prepositions, 
in  either  branch  of  this  clause,  have  been  supplied 
by  the  translators,  and  are  not  in  the  original.  The 
words  "  flesh"  and  "  spirit,"  in  the  original,  stand  with- 
out any  preposition,  in  that  case  which,  in  the  Greek 
language,  without  any  preposition,  is  the  case  either  of 
the  cause  or  instrument  by  which — of  the  time  when — 
of  the  place  where — of  the  part  in  which — of  the  manner 
how — or  of  the  respect  in  which,  according  to  the  ex- 
igence of  the  context ;  and,  to  any  one  who  will  con- 
sider  the  original  with  critical  accuracy,  it  will  be  ob- 
vious, from  the  perfect  antithesis  of  these  two  clauses 
concerning  flesh  and  spirit,  that  if  the  word  "  spirit"  de- 
note the  active  cause  by  which  Christ  was  restored  to 
life,  which  must  be  supposed  by  them  who  understand 
the  word  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  word  "  flesh"  must 
equally  denote  the  active  cause  by  which  he  was  put  to 
death,  which  therefore  must  have  been'  the  flesh  of  his 
own  body, — an  interpretation  too  manifestly  absurd  to 
be  admitted.  But  if  the  word  "  flesh"  denote,  as  it  most 
evidently  does,  the  part  in  \v-hich  death  took  effect  upon 
him,  "  spirit"  must  denote  the  part  in  which  life  was 
presened  in  him,  i.  e.  his  own  soul ;  and  the  word 
"  quickened"  is  often  applied  to  signify,  not  the  resusci- 
tation oriife  extinguished,  but  the  preservation  and  con- 


(     99     ) 

tinuance  of  life  subsisting.  The  exact  rendering,  there- 
fore, of  the  apostle's  words  would  be — "  Being  put  to 
death  in  the  flesh,  but  quick  in  the  spirit,"  j.  e.  surviving 
in  his  soul  the  stroke  of  death  which  his  body  had  sus- 
tained; "  by  which,"  or  rather  "  in  which,"  that  is,  in 
which  surviving  soul,  "  he  went  and  preached  to  the 
souls  of  men  in  prison  or  in  safe  keeping." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  this  text  should  have 
been  long  considered  in  the  church  as  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal foundations  of  the  Catholic  belief  of  Christ's  de- 
scent into  hell :  it  is  rather  to  be  wondered  that  so  clear 
a  proof  should  ever  have  been  abandoned.  In  the  arti- 
cles of  religion  agreed  upon  in  con\'ocation  in  the  year 
1552,  the  6th  of  Edward  the  sixth,  and  published  by 
the  king's  authority  the  year  following,  the  third  article 
is  in  these  words :  "  As  Christ  died  and  was  buried  for 
us,  so  also  it  is  to  be  believed  that  he  went  down  into 
hell ;  for  the  body  lay  in  the  sepulchre  until  the  resur- 
rection, but  his  ghost  departing  from  him,  was  with  the 
ghosts  that  were  in  prison,  or  in  hell,  as  the  place  of  St. 
Peter  doth  testify."  But  in  the  short  interval  of  ten 
years,  between  this  convocation  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
and  the  setting  forth  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  in  their 
present  form,  in  the  5th  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  a  change 
seems  to  have  taken  place  in  the  opinions  of  the  divines 
of  our  church  with  respect  to  this  text  of  St.  Peter ;  for 
in  the  articles,  as  thej'  were  then  drawn,  and  we  now 
have  them,  Christ's  descent  into  hell  is  still  asserted,  but 
the  proof  of  it  from  the  text  of  St.  Peter  is  withdrawn, — 
as  if  the  literal  sense  of  the  text  which  affords  the  proof 
had  fallen  under  suspicion,  and  some  other  exposition 
of  it  had  been  adopted.  This  change  of  opinion,  I  fear, 
is  to  be  ascribed  to  an  undue  reliance  of  the  divines  of 
that  time  on  the  authority  of  St.  Austin ;  for  St.  Austin 
was,  I  think,  the  first  who  doubted  of  the  literal  sense 
'(f  this  paFsnge  of  St.  Peter.  He  perplexes  himself  witi* 
3R 


(     100     ) 

bunic  questions,  which  seemed  to  liim  to  arise  out  of  it, 
of  too  great  subtlety  perhaps  to  be  solved  by  man ;  and 
then  he  had  recourse  to  the  usual  but  dangerous  expe- 
dient of  abandoning  the  plain  meaning  of  the  passage, 
for  some  loose  figurative  interpretation,  which  presents 
a  proposition  of  no  sort  of  difficulty  to  the  understanding 
of  the  critic,  because  in  truth  it  is  a  proposition  of  his 
own  making.  I  mean  not  to  depreciate  the  character  of 
St.  Austin.  He  was  indeed,  in  his  day,  a  burning  and 
a  shining  light ;  and  he  has  been  ever  since,  by  his  writ- 
ings, one  of  the  brightest  luminaries  of  the  Latin  church, 
— a  man  of  warm  unaffected  piety,  of  the  greatest  na- 
tural talents  and  the  highest  attainments,  exercised  in  the 
assiduous  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  replete  with  sa- 
cred learning,  and  withal  deeply  versed  in  that  Pagan 
lore,  in  which,  however  it  may  have  been  of  late  shame- 
fully calumniated,  the  soundest  divines  have  always  been 
great  proficients.  In  polite  literature  he  was  the  rival — 
in  science  and  philosophy  the  superior,  by  many  de- 
grees, of  his  great  contemporary  St.  Jerome.  But  it  was 
a  culpable  deference  to  the  authority  even  of  so  great  and 
good  a  man,  if  his  doubts  were  in  any  case  turned  into 
objections,  and  the  interpretation  of  Scripture  adjusted 
to  opinions  which  he  himself  propounds  with  doubt  and 
hesitation.  Those  in  later  times  who  have  improved 
upon  St.  x\ustin's  hint  of  figurating  this  passage,  have 
succeeded  no  better  than  they  who  have  made  the  like 
attempt  upon  the  article  of  our  Lord's  descent  in  the 
Creed.  They  tell  us,  that  by  the  souls  in  prison  are  to 
be  understood  the  Gentile  world  in  bondage  and  capti- 
vity to  sin  and  Satan,  and  held  in  the  chains  of  their  own 
lusts ;  and,  for  confirmation  of  this,  they  refer  to  those 
passages  of  the  prophet  Isaiah  in  which  it  is  predicted  of 
Christ,  that  he  is  to  bring  the  prisoners  out  of  prison, 
and  them  that  sit  in  darkness  out  of  the  prison-house, — 
tlKvt  he  is  to  say  to  the  prisoners,  *'  Go  forth," — that  he 


(     101     ) 

is  to  proclaim  liberty  to  the  captives,  and  the  opening  oi 
■  the  prison  to  those  that  are  bound. 

Now,  we  deny  not  that  the  state  of  the  unregenerate 
carnal  man  is  indeed  represented  in  Scripture  under  the 
images  of  captivity  and  bondage,  and  his  sinful  lusts  under 
the  images  of  chains  and  fetters ;  but,  with  respect  to  the 
alleged  passages  from  the  prophet  Isaiah, — in  the  last  of 
them  most  indubitably,  and  I  believe  in  all,  but  in  tht- 
last  without  doubt,  the  prison  is  no  other  than  that  self- 
same place  which  is  the  prison  or  place  of  safe  keeping 
in  this  text  of  St.  Peter,  according  to  our  notion  of  it. 
The  enlargement  of  the  saints  from  the  confinement  of 
that  place  is  the  liberation  predicted.  Their  souls  in  that 
place  are  the  captives  to  whom  the  Redeemer,  at  the  sea- 
son of  his  final  triumph  over  death  and  hell,  shall  say 
"  Go  forth."  These  texts  of  the  prophet,  therefore, 
rather  afford  a  confirmation  of  the  literal  acceptation  of 
the  apostle's  words,  than  of  those  jejune  figurative  in- 
terpretations, which  modern  criticism,  sacred  at  the  bug- 
bear of  purgatory,  would  substitute  for  the  plain  and  ob- 
vious sense. 

It  cannot,  however,  be  dissembled,  that  difficulties 
arise  out  of  the  particular  character  of  the  souls  in  cus- 
tody; to  which  I  shall  give  such  consideration  as  the 
time  will  permit. 

The  souls  in  custody,  to  whom  our  Saviour  went  in 
his  disembodied  soul  and  preached,  were  those  "  which 
sometime  we^s  disobedient."  The  expression  "  some- 
time were,"  or  "  one  while  had  been  disobedient,"  im- 
plies that  they  were  recovered,  however,  from  that  dis- 
obedience, and,  before  their  death,  had  been  brought  to 
repentance  and  faith  in  the  Redeemer  to  come.  To  such 
souls  he  went  and  preached.  But  what  did  he  preach  to 
departed  souls,  and  what  could  l^e  the  end  of  his  preach- 
ing? Certainly  he  preached  neither  repentance  nor  faith; 
I'or  the  preachinr:  of  either  cnmrs  too  late  to  the  departed 


f     102    ) 

soul.  These  souls  had  believed  and  repented,  or  they 
had  not  been  in  that  part  of  the  nether  regions  which  the 
soul  of  the  Redeemer  visited.  Nor  was  the  end  of  his 
preaching  any  liberation  of  them  from  we  know  not  what 
purgatorial  pains,  of  which  the  Scriptures  give  not  the 
slightest  intimation.  But  if  he  went  to  proclaim  to  them 
(and  to  proclaim  or  publish  is  the  true  sense  of  the  word 
"  to  preach")  the  glad  tidings,  that  he  had  actually  of- 
fered the  sacrifice  of  their  redemption,  and  was  about  to 
appear  before  the  Father  as  their  intercessor,  in  the  merit 
of  his  own  blood,  this  was  a  preaching  fit  to  be  addressed 
to  departed  souls,  and  would  give  new  animation  and 
assurance  to  their  hope  of  the  consummation  in  due  sea- 
son of  their  bliss ;  and  this,  it  may  be  presumed,  was 
the  end  of  his  preaching,  l^ut  the  great  difficulty,  in  the 
description  of  the  souls  to  whom  this  preaching  for  this 
purpose  was  addressed,  is  this,  that  the^'  were  souls  of 
some  of  the  antediluvian  race.  Not  that  it  at  all  startles 
me  to  find  antediluvian  souls  in  safe  keeping  for  final  sal- 
vation :  on  the  contrary,  I  should  find  it  very  difficult  to 
believe  (unless  I  were  to  read  it  some  where  in  the 
Bible),  that  of  the  millions  that  perished  in  the  general 
deluge,  all  died  hardened  in  impenitence  and  unbelief, 
insomuch  that  not  one  of  that  race  could  be  an  object 
of  future  mercy,  beside  the  eight  persons  who  were  mi- 
raculously saved  in  the  ark,  for  the  purpose  of  repeopling 
the  depopulated  earth.  Nothing  in  the  general  plan  of 
God's  deahngs  with  mankind,  as  revealed  in  Scripture, 
makes  it  necessary  to  suppose,  that,  of  the  antediluvian 
race  v^  ho  might  repent  upon  Noah's  preaching,  more 
would  be  saved  from  the  temporal  judgment  than  the 
purpose  of  a  gradual  repopulation  of  the  world  demand- 
ed ;  or  to  suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  that  all  who  pe- 
rished in  the  flood  are  to  perish  everlastingly  in  the  lake 
of  fire.  But  the  great  difficulty,  of  which  perhaps  I  may 
be  unable  to  give  any  adequate  solution,  is  this, — For 


<    103     ) 

what  reason  should  the  proclamation  of  the  finishing  of 
the  great  work  of  redemption  be  addressed  exclusively 
to  the  souls  of  these  antediluvian  penitents?  Were  not 
the  souls  of  the  penitents  of  later  ages  equally  interested 
in  the  joyful  tidings  ?  To  this  I  can  only  answer,  that 
I  think  I  have  observed,  in  some  parts  of  Scripture, 
an  anxiety,  if  the  expression  may  be  allowed,  of  the 
sacred  writers  to  convey  distinct  intimations  that  the  an- 
tediluvian race  is  not  uninterested  in  the  redemption  and 
the  final  retribution.  It  is  for  this  purpose,  as  I  conceive, 
that  in  the  description  of  tlie  general  resurrection,  in  the 
visions  of  the  Apocalypse,  it  is  mentioned  with  a  parti- 
cular emphasis,  that  the  "  sea  gave  up  the  dead  that  were 
in  it ;"  which  I  cannot  be  contqnt  to  understand  of  the 
few  persons — few  in  comparison  of  the  total  of  mankind 
— lost  at  different  times  by  shipwreck  (a  poor  circum- 
stance to  find  a  place  in  the  midst  of  the  magnificent 
images  which  surround  it),  but  of  the  myriads  who  pe- 
rished in  the  general  deluge,  and  found  their  tomb  in  the 
waters  of  that  raging  ocean.  It  may  be  conceived,  that 
the  souls  of  those  who  died  in  that  dreadful  visitation 
might  from  that  circumstance  have  peculiai-  apprehen- 
sions of  themselves  as  the  marked  victims  of  divine  ven- 
geance, and  might  peculiarly  need  the  consolation  which 
the  preaching  of  our  Lord  in  the  subterranean  regions 
afforded  to  these  prisoners  of  hope.  However  that  may 
be,  thither,  the  apostle  says,  he  went  and  preached. 
Is  any  difficulty  that  may  present  itself  to  the  human 
mind,  upon  the  circumstances  of  that  preaching,  of  suf- 
ficient weight  to  make  the  thing  unfit  to  be  believed  upon 
the  vrord  of  the  apostle  ? — or  are  we  justified,  if,  for 
such  difficulties,  we  abandon  the  plain  sense  of  the  apos- 
tle's words,  and  impose  upon  them  another  meaning, 
not  easily  adapted  to  the  words,  though  more  propor- 
tioned to  the  capacity  of  our  understanding, — especially 
when  it  is  confirmed  by  other  scriptures  that  lie  went  to 


(     104    ) 

tfiat  place?  In  that  place  he  could  not  but  find  the  souls 
Ivhich  are  in  it  in  safe  keeping;  and,  in  some  way  or 
other,  it  cannot  but  be  supposed  that  he  would  hold  con- 
ference  with  them ;  and  a  particular  conference  with  one 
class  might  be  the  means,  and  certainly  could  be  no  ob- 
struction, to  a  general  communication  with  all.  If  the 
clear  assertions  of  holy  writ  are  to  be  discredited,  on 
account  of  difficulties  which  may  seem  to  the  human 
mind  to  arise  out  of  them,  little  will  remain  to  be  be- 
lieved in  revealed  or  even  in  what  is  called  natural  reli- 
gion :  we  must  immediately  part  with  the  doctrines  of 
atonement — of  gratuitous  redemption — of  justification 
by  faith,  without  the  works  of  the  law — of  sanctification 
by  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  we  must  part  at 
once  with  the  hope  of  the  resurrection.  "  How  are  the 
dead  raised  up,  and  with  what  body  do  they  come?" 
are  questions  more  easily  asked  than  answered,  unless  it 
may  be  an  answer,  to  refer  the  proposer  of  them  to  the 
promises  of  holy  writ,  and  the  power  of  God  to  make 
good  those  promises. 

Having  now,  I  trust,  shown  that  the  article  of  Christ's 
descent  into  hell  is  to  be  taken  as  a  plain  matter  of  fact, 
in  the  literal  meaning  of  the  words, — having  exhibited 
the  positive  proof  that  we  find  of  this  fact  in  holy  writ, — 
having  asserted  the  literal  meaning  of  my  text,  and  dis- 
played, in  its  full  force,  the  convincing  proof  to  be  de- 
duced from  this  passage  in  particular,  I  shall  now,  with 
great  brevity,  demonstrate  the  great  use  and  importance 
of  the  fact  itself  as  a  point  of  Christian  doctrine. 

Its  great  use  is  this, — that  it  is  a  clear  confutation  of 
the  dismal  notion  of  death  as  the  temporary  extinction 
of  the  life  of  the  whole  man  ;  or,  what  is  no  less  gloomy 
and  discouraging,  the  notion  of  the  sleep  of  the  soul  in 
the  interval  between  death  and  the  resurrection.  Christ 
^vas  made  so  truly  man,  that  whatever  took  place  in  the 
human  nature  of  Christ  mav  be  considered  as  a  model 


(    105    ) 

and  example  of  what  must  take  place,  in  a  certain  due 
proportion  and  degree,  in  every  man  united  to  him. 
Christ's  soul  survived  the  death  of  his  body :  therefore 
shall  the  soul  of  every  believer  survive  the  body's  death. 
Christ's  disembodied  soul  descended  into  hell :  thither, 
therefore,  shall  the  soul  of  every  believer  in  Christ  de- 
scend. In  that  place,  the  soul  of  Christ,  in  its  separate 
state,  possessed  and  exercised  active  powers:  in  the 
same  place,  therefore,  shall  the  believer's  soul  possess 
and  exercise  activity.  Christ's  soul  was  not  left  in  hell: 
neither  shall  the  souls  of  his  servants  there  be  left  but  for 
a  season.  The  appointed  time  will  come,  when  the  Re- 
deemer shall  set  open  the  doors  of  their  prison-house, 
and  sav  to  his  redeemed  "  Go  forth." 


SERMON    XXt„ 


Mark  ii.  27. 


The  Sahhath  was  made  for  man^  and  not  7nan  J  or  the 
Sabbath. 


1  HE  two  opposite  characters  of  the  hypocrite  and  the 
prophane  are  in  no  part  of  their  conduct  more  conspi- 
cuously distinguished,  than  by  the  opposite  errors  which 
they  seem  to  adopt  concerning  the  degree  of  attention 
due  to  the  positive  institutions  of  religion,  whether  of 
human  or  divine  appointment.  Under  the  name  of  po- 
sitive institutions,  we  comprehend  all  those  impositions 
and  restraints,  which  not  being  suggested  to  any  man  by 
his  conscience,  and  having  no  necessary  and  natural  con- 
nection with  the  dictates  of  that  internal  monitor,  seem 
to  have  no  importance  but  what  they  may  derive  from 
the  will  of  a  superior  who  prescribes  them.  Of  this  sort, 
as  far  as  we  at  present  understand  it,  was  the  restriction 
laid  upon  our  first  parents  in  paradise — the  prohibition 
of  the  use  of  blood  for  food,  after  the  deluge — the  rite 
of  circumcision  in  Abraham's  family — the  whole  of  the 
Mosaic  ritual — the  sacraments  of  the  Christian  Churcli 
— the  institution  of  the  Sabbath — and,  besides  these,  all 
ceremonies  of  worship  Avhatsoever,  of  human  appoint- 
ment. All  these  things  come  under  the  notion  of  posi- 
tive institutions ;  for  although  the  expediency  of  things 
of  the  kind,  in  the  several  successive  ages  of  the  world, 
is  suflicicnlly  apparent,   yet  the  particular  merit  of  the 


(    107    } 

■special  acts  enjoined,  for  which  they  might  be  preferable 
to  other  acts  which  might  have  been  devised  for  the 
same  purpose,  is  perhaps  in  none  of  the  instances  alleged 
very  easy  to  be  discovered.  That  men  should  assemble, 
at  stated  seasons,  for  the  public  worship  of  God,  all 
must  perceive  to  be  a  duty,  who  acknowledge  that  a 
creature  endowed  with  the  high  faculties  of  reason  and 
intelligence  owes  to  his  Maker  public  expressions  of 
homage  and  adoration :  but  that  the  assembly  should  re- 
cur every  seventh,  rather  than  every  sixth  or  every 
eighth  day,  no  natural  sanctity  of  the  seventh  more  than 
of  the  sixth  or  eighth  persuades.  That  Christians,  in  their 
public  assemblies,  should  commemorate  that  death  by 
which  death  was  overcome,  and  the  gate  of  everlasting 
life  set  open  to  the  true  believer,  no  one  who  pretends 
to  a  just  sense  of  the  benefit  received,  and  the  sharpness 
of  the  pain  endured,  will  dare  to  question ;  but  the  par- 
ticular sanctity  of  the  rite  in  use  proceeds  solely  from 
our  Lord's  appointment.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
baptism.  A  rite  by  which  new  converts  should  be  ad- 
mitted into  the  church,  and  the  children  of  Christian 
parents,  from  their  earliest  infancy,  devoted  to  Christ's 
service  in  their  riper  age,  is  of  evident  propriety :  but 
our  Lord's  solemn  injunction  of  its  constant  use  consti- 
tutes the  particular  sanctity  of  that  which  is  employed. 
The  like  observations  applied  with  equal  force,  in  an- 
cient times,  to  the  particulars  of  the  Mosaic  service,  to 
the  rite  of  circumcision,  to  tlie  prohibition  of  the  use  of 
blood,  and  to  the  abstinence  from  the  fruit  of  a  particu- 
lar tree,  exacted  of  Adam  in  paradise,  for  no  other  pur- 
pose perhaps  but  as  a  test  of  his  obedience ;  and  they 
are  still  applicable  with  much  greater-  force  to  all  cere- 
monies of  worship  appointed  in  any  national  church  by 
the  authority  of  its  rulers.  The  fact  is,  that  all  cere- 
monies are  actions,  which,  by  a  solemn  appropriation  of 
Hi^m  to  particular  nccasions,  are  understood  to  denote, 
39 


(     108     ) 

or  are  made  use  of  to  produce  certain  dispositions  of  the 
mind  towards  God  :  they  acquire  their  meaning  merely, 
from  the  institution ;  and  the  necessity  of  making  a 
choice  of  some  one  out  of  a  variety  of  acts  which  na- 
turally might  be  equally  significant  and  equally  fit  to  be 
made  subservient  to  the  intended  purpose,  will  always 
produce,  even  in  the  ordinances  of  Divine  appointment, 
an  appearance  at  least  of  something  arbitrary  in  the  in- 
stitution. Hence,  it  will  of  necessity  come  to  pass,  that 
these  ordinances  will  be  very  differently  regarded  by 
different  men,  according  as  the  particular  cast  of  each 
man's  temper  and  disposition — his  natural  turn  to  se- 
riousness or  gaiety — his  acquired  habits  of  sincerity  or 
dissimulation — render  either  the  importance  of  the  ge- 
neral end,  or  what  there  may  seem  to  be  of  arbitrary 
authority  in  the  particular  institution,  the  object  most 
apt  to  seize  upon  his  attention;  according  as  he  is  dis- 
posed to  be  scrupulous  in  his  duty,  or  impatient  of  re- 
straint— fair  and  open  in  his  actions,  or  accustomed  to 
seek  his  private  ends  in  the  fair  show,  and  semblance  of 
a  ready  and  exact  submission  to  authority.  With  the 
hypocrite,  therefore,  the  whole  of  the  practical  part  of 
religion  w  ill  consist  in  an  ostentatious  rigour  in  the  ob- 
servance of  its  positive  precepts.  With  that  thoughtless 
tribe  which  constitutes,  it  is  to  be  feared,  the  far  greater 
proportion  of  mankind,  those  who,  without  any  settled 
principles  of  positi\'e  infidelity,  and  without  any  strong 
propensities  to  the  excesses  of  debauchery,  find,  how- 
ever, their  whole  occupation  in  the  cares,  and  what  may 
seem  the  innocent  amusements  of  the  world,  and  defer 
the  consideration  of  tlie  future  life  till  they  find  the  pre- 
sent drawing  to  a  close, — with  persons  of  this  disposi- 
tion, tlie  duties  of  which  I  speak  arc  for  the  most  part 
totally  neglected;  insomuch,  that  an  affected  assiduity 
in  the  discharge  of  the  positive  precepts  of  religion  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  neglect  of  them  on  the  other, 


{     109     ) 

may  be  considered  as  the  discriminating  symptoms  of 
the  two  opposite  vices  of  hypocrisy  aiid  proi'anencss : 
for  the  name  of  profancness,  you  will  observe,  in  strict 
propriety  of  speech,  belongs  not  only  to  the  flagrant  and 
avowed  impiety  of  the  atheist  and  libertine,  but  to  the 
conduct  of  him  who,  without  any  thing  notoriously  re- 
prehensible in  his  morals — any  thing  to  make  him  shui^.- 
ned  and  disliked  by  his  neighbours  i\nd  acquaintances, 
lives,  however,  without  any  habitual  iear  of  God  and 
sense  of  religion  upon  his  m.ind. 

The  Mosaic  law,  as  it  was  planned  by  uneiTing  wis- 
dom, was  unquestionably  admirably  well  contrived  ^r 
the  great  purposes  for  which  it  was  intended, — to  main- 
tain the  knowledge  of  the  true  God  among  a  particular 
people,  and  to  cherish  an  opinion  of  the  necessit}'  of  an 
expiatory  sacrifice  for  involuntary  offences,  till  the  sea- 
son should  arrive  for  the  general  revelation.  Nor  is  it  to 
be  supposed  that  it  failed  of  the  puipose  for  which  it 
>vas  so  well  contrived.  The  highest  examples  of  con- 
summate virtue  and  heroic  piety  which  the  ancient  world 
knew  were  formed  in  that  people,  under  the  discipline 
of  their  holy  law;  nevertheless,  the  great  stress  laid  upon 
ceremonial  observances  had,  notwithstanding  the  conti- 
nual remonstrances  of  the  prophets — not  from  any  defect 
in  the  law  itself,  but  from  the  corruption  of  human  na- 
ture— it  had  at  least  an  ill  effect  upon  the  manners  of  the 
people.  Notwithstanding  the  eminent  instances  of  vir- 
tue and  piety  which  from  time  to  time  arose  among  them 
— of  virtue  and  piety,  of  which  faith  alone  in  the  reve- 
lation which  they  enjoyed  might  be  'a  sufficient  founda- 
tion,— yet,  if  WG  look  to  thq  national  character,  especi- 
ally in  the  later  ages  of  the  Jewish  state,  ^ve  shall  find 
that  it  was  rank  hypocrisy,  such  as  justifies  what  is  said 
of  them  by  a  learned  wiiter,  that  they  were  at  the  same 
time  the  most  religious  and  the  most  profligate  people 
upon  the  earth, — tlic  most  religious  in  tlie  hypocrite's 


C   110   j 

religion — the  most  regardless  of  wiiat  tiieir  own  law 
taught  them  to  be  more  than  all  whole  burnt-offerings 
and  sacrificesi 

Strange  as  the  assertion  may  seem,  this  depravity  of 
the  Jewish  people,  the  effect,  as  has  been  observed,  of 
an  abuse  of  their  divine  law,  was  favourable  (so  active 
is  the  merciful  providence  of  God  to  bring  good  out  of 
evil), — this  ill  effect  of  the  abuse  of  the  divine  law  was 
favourable  to  that  great  end  to  which  the  law  tended,  the 
introduction  of  an  universal  revelation  for  the  generaf 
reformation  of  the  manners  of  mankind.  It  was  fa- 
vourable to  this  end,  because  it  was  favourable  to  our 
Saviour's  method  of  instruction.  Our  ^§)aviour's  me- 
thod of  instruction  was  not  by  delivering  a  system  of 
morality,  in  which  the  formal  nature  of  the  moral  good 
should  be  traced  to  the  original  idea  of  the  seemly  and 
the  fair — the  foundations  of  our  duty  discovered  in  the 
natural  relations  of  things,  and  the  importance  of  everj' 
particular  duty  demonstrated  by  its  connection  with  the 
general  happiness.  This  was  not  his  method  of  instruc- 
tion, because  he  well  knew  how  long  it  had  been  fol- 
lowed with  little  effect ;  for  abstruse  speculations,  what- 
ever they  may  have  at  the  bottom  of  solidity  and  truth, 
suit  not  the  capacities  of  the  many,  and  influence  the 
hearts  of  none.  The  method  of  instruction  which  he 
chose,  was  to  throw  out  general  maxims  respecting  the 
different  branches  of  human  duty,  as  often  as,  in  the 
course  of  an  unreserved  intercourse  with  persons  of  all 
ranks,  characters,  and  conditions,  he  found  occasion 
either  to  reprove  the  errors  and  enormities  which  fell 
under  his  observation,  or  to  vindicate  his  own  conduct 
and  that  of  his  disciples,  when  either  was  unjusdy  ar- 
raigned by  the  hypocrites  of  the  times.  Had  the  man- 
ners of  his  contemporaries  been  less  reprehensible,  or 
their  hypocrisy  less  rigid  and  censorious,  tlie  occasions 
of  instruction  by  reproof  and  apology  would  have  less 


{  ill  ; 

frequently  occurred.  It  was  an  accusation  of  his  dis- 
ciples as  profaners  of  the  Sabbath,  when  they  took  the 
liberty  to  satisfy  their  hunger  with  the  ripe  ears  of  stand- 
ing corn,  which  they  plucked  as  they  chanced  to  cross 
a  corn  field  on  the  Sabbath  day,  which  drew  from  him 
that  admirable  maxim  which  I  have  chosen  for  my  text, 
— a  maxim  which,  rightly  understood,  may  be  applied 
to  all  the  positive  precepts  of  religion  no  less  than  to  the 
Sabbath,  and  clearly  settles  the  degree  of  attention  that 
is  due  to  them ;  insomuch,  that  whoever  will  keep  this 
maxim  in  its  right  sense  constantly  in  view,  will  with 
certainty  avoid  the  two  extremes  of  an  unnecessary  ri- 
gour in  the  observance  of  these  secondary  duties,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  profane  »eglect  of  them  on  the 
other. 

After  all  that  can  be  said,  and  said  with  truth,  about 
the  immutable  distinctions  of  right  and  wrong,  and  the 
eternal  fitness  of  things,  it  should  seem  that  the  will  of 
God  is  the  true  foundation  of  moral  obligation ;  for  I 
cannot  understand  that  any  man's  bare  perception  of  the 
natural  seemliness  of  one  action  and  unseemliness  of 
another  should  bring  him  under  an  obligation  upon  all 
occasions  to  do  the  one  and  avoid  the  other,  at  the 
hazard  of  his  life,  to  the  detriment  of  his  fortune,  or 
even  to  the  diminution  of  his  own  ease,  which  suffers 
diminution  more  or  less  in  every  instance  in  which  he 
lays  a  constraint  upon  his  own  inclination.  I  say,  I 
cannot  understand  how  the  bare  perception  of  good  in 
actions  of  one  sort,  or  of  evil  in  actions  of  another, 
should  create  such  an  obligation,  that  a  man,  if  he  were 
not  accountable  to  a  superior  for  the  conduct  of  his  life, 
should  yet  be  criminal,  if,  in  view  of  his  own  happi- 
ness or  ease,  he  should  sometimes  think  proper  to  omit 
the  action  which  he  admires,  or  to  do  that  which  he  dis^ 
approves.  No  such  obligation  therefore  arising  from 
the  mere  intuitive  perception  of  the  differences  of  righi 


(     112     ) 

and  wrong,  it  follows,  that  notwithstanding  the  reality  of 
those  differences,  and  the  incommutable  nature  of  the 
two  things,  still  the  obligation  upon  man  to  act  in  con- 
formity to  these  perceptions  arises  from  the  will  of  God, 
who  enjoins  a  conformity  of  our  conduct  to  these  natural 
apprehensions  of  our  minds,  and  binds  the  obligation  by 
assurances  that  what  we  lose  of  present  gratification  shall 
be  amply  compensated  in  a  future  retribution,  and  by 
threatening  the  disobedient  with  heavier  ills  than  the 
restraints  of  self-denial  or  the  loss  of  life.  But  if  this 
be  the  case,  that  the  will  of  God  is  the  sole  foundation 
of  man's  duty,  it  should  seem  that  the  distinction  which 
is  usually  made  between  the  great  natural  duties  of  jus- 
tice and  sobriety — all,  in  short,  that  are  included  in  the 
general  topics  of  the  love  of  God  and  man, — it  should 
seem  that  the  distinction  between  these  and  the  positive 
precepts  of  religion  is  imaginary,  so  far  at  least  as  the 
distinction  regards  positive  precepts  of  Divine  appoint- 
ment ;  it  should  seem  that  all  duties,  natural  and  posi- 
tive, are,  upon  this  principle,  of  the  same  value  and 
importance — that,  by  consequence,  all  crimes  are  equal, 
and  that  a  wilful  unnecessary  absence  from  the  assem- 
blies of  the  seventh  day,  or  from  the  Lord's  table,  is  a 
crime  of  no  less  guilt  than  theft  or  murder. 

The  highest  authority  hath  decided  otherwise,  and  hath 
established  the  distinction.  Our  Lord  told  his  disciples, 
that  "  unless  their  righteousness  should  exceed  the  righte- 
ousness of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  they  should  in  no- 
wise enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven," — that  is,  unless 
it  should  be  a  righteousness  of  a  higher  kind ;  for  in  the 
sort  of  righteousness  which  they  practised,  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  were  not  easily  to  be  outdone.  He  recom- 
mended to  them  two  things  very  contrary  to  the  hypo- 
crite's religion,  secrecy  and  brevity  in  their  devotions. 
He  seemed  industriously  to  seek  occasions  of  doing 
those  good  actions  on  the  Sabbath  day,  which,  to  those 


(     113     ) 

vvho  understood  not  how  the  principle  and  the  end  sanc- 
tified these  works  of  mercj',  seemed  a  violation  of  the 
institution :  and  it  was  in  justification  of  an  action  in 
which  no  such  merit  could  be  pretended — an  action 
done  by  some  of  his  followers,  perhaps  without  much 
consideration,  to  appease  the  cravings  of  a  keen  appetite 
■ — that  he  alleged  the  maxim  in  the  text,  "  that  the  Sab- 
bath was  made  for  man,  not  man  for  the  Sabbath," — 
a  maxim  which,  at  the  same  time  that  it  establishes 
in  the  most  peremptory  terms  the  distinction  between 
natural  duties  and  positive  institutions,  defines  with  the 
greatest  precision  and  perspicuity  in  what  the  difference 
consists,  and  as  little  justifies  the  wilful  neglect  of  the 
ordinances  of  religion  as  it  countenances  an  hypocritical 
formality  in  the  performance  or  a  superstitious  reliance 
on  the  merit  of  them. 

Although  the  obligation  upon  man  to  a  discharge  of 
any  duty  arises,  as  I  have  observed,  from  the  sole  will 
of  God,  yet,  in  the  great  duties  of  justice  and  charity 
in  our  dealings  with  men — of  mildness  to  our  inferiors, 
courtesy  to  our  equals,  and  submission  to  our  gover- 
nors— of  sobriety  and  temperance  in  the  refections  of 
the  body,  and  of  moderation  in  the  pleasures  which  be- 
long to  the  animal  life, — in  all  these  we  can  discern  a 
natural  fitness  and  propriety  immutably  inherent  in  the 
things  themselves;  insomuch,  that  any  rational  being, 
once  placed  in  a  situation  to  be  superior  to  the  influence 
of  external  motives,  and  to  be  determined  in  his  con- 
duct by  the  sole  approbation  of  his  own  mind,  must  al- 
ways delight  in  them :  and  though  occasions  may  arise 
which  may  render  a  contrary  conduct  useful  to  the  indi- 
vidual, yet  no  occasions  can  arise  which  may  render  it 
so  lovely  and  laudable.  Now,  although  this  natural 
fitness  and  propriety  be  not  tlie  origin  of  moral  obliga- 
tion among  men,  yet  it  is  indeed  a  higher  principle;  for 
it  is  that  from  which  that  will  of  God  himself  originates 


(    114    ) 

by  which  the  natural  discernment  of  our  conscience  ac- 
quires the  force  of  a  law  for  the  regulation  of  our  lives. 
Of  these  duties  of  inherent  and  immutable  propriety,  it  r? 
were  not  true  to  say  that  they  are  made  for  man :  but 
what  is  denied  of  positive  institutions  is  true  of  these, 
that  man  was  made  for  them.  They  are  analogous  to  ] 
the  moral  attributes  of  the  Deity  himself.  The  more 
that  any  man  is  fixed  in  the  habitual  love  and  practice 
of  them,  the  more  the  image  of  God  in  that  man  is  per- 
fected. The  perfection  of  these  moral  attributes  is  the 
foundation  of  the  necessity  of  God's  own  existence ; 
and  if  the  enjoyment  and  display  of  them  is  (if  the  ex- 
pression may  be  allowed)  the  end  and  purpose  to  which 
God  himself  exists,  the  humble  imitation  of  these  Di- 
vine perfections  is  the  end  and  purpose  for  which  men 
and  angels  ^vere  created. 

We  discern,  therefore,  in  tl^se  natural  duties,  that 
intrinsic  worth  and  seemliness,  which  is  the  motive  that 
determines  the  Divine  will  to  exact  the  performance  of 
them  from  the  rational  part  of  his  creation;  for  God's 
will  is  not  arbitrary,  but  directed  by  his  goodness  and 
his  wisdom.  Or,  to  go  a  step  higher,  the  natural  ex- 
cellence of  these  duties,  we  may  reasonably  presume, 
was  the  original  motive  which  determined  the  Deity  to 
create  beings  who  should  be  capable  of  being  brought 
to  that  dignity  of  character  which  a  proficiency  in  virtue 
confers,  and  of  enjoying,  in  their  improved  state  of 
moral  worth,  a  con-esponding  happiness. 

But  in  the  positive  institutions  of  religion  we  discera 
nothing  of  inherent  excellence.  They  evidentiy  make 
a  part  of  the  discipline  only  of  our  present  state,  by 
which  creatures  in  their  first  state  of  imperfection,  weak 
in  intellect  and  strong  in  passion,  might  be  trained  to 
the  habit  of  those  virtues  which  are  in  themselves 
valuable,  and  by  the  fear  of  God  thus  artificially  as  it 
were  impressed  upon  their  minds,  be  rendered  in  the 


(     UB    ) 

ond  superior  to  temptation.  They  are  therefore,  as  it 
were,  but  a  secondary  part  of  the  will  of  God;  and 
the  rank  which  they  hold  as  objects  of  God's  will,  the 
same  they  must  hold  as  branches  of  man's  obedience. 
They  are  no  otherwise  pleasing  to  God  than  as  they  are 
beneficial  to  man,  b}'  enlivening  the  flame  of  genuine 
religion  in  his  bosgm.  Man,  therefore,  was  nojt  made 
for  these,  but  these  were  made  for  man.  To  comme- 
morate the  creation  of  the  universe  by  certain  ceremo- 
nies in  public  assemblies  on  the  seventh  day,  though  a 
noble  and  a  salutary  employment  of  our  time,  is  not, 
however,  the  principal  business  for  which  man  was 
created;  nor  is  the  commemoration  of  our  Redeemer's 
death,  by  any  external  rite,  the  principal  end  and  busi- 
ness of  the  Christian's  calling :  but  the  observation  of 
the  Sabbath  with  certain  ceremonies  in  public  assem- 
blies, and  the  commemoration  of  our  Lord's  death  in 
the  eucharist,  were  appointed  as  means  of  cherishing  in 
the  heart  of  man  a  more  serious  and  interested  attention 
to  those  duties  which  are  the  real  end  and  purpose  of 
his  existence,  and  the  peculiar  service  which  the  Chris- 
tian owes  his  Lord,  who  bought  him  with  his  blood. 
And  thus  we  see  the  distinction  between  the  primary 
duties  and  the  positive  precepts  of  religion.  The  prac- 
tice of  the  first  is  the  very  end  for  which  man  was  ori- 
ginally created,  and  after  the  ruin  of  his  fall,  redeemed : 
the  other  are  means  appointed  to  facilitate  and  secure 
the  attainment  of  the  end.  In  themselves  they  are  of  no 
value;  insomuch,  that  a  scrupulous  attention  to  these 
secondary  duties,  when  the  great  end  of  them  is  wilfully 
neglected,  will  but  aggravate  the  guilt  of  an  immoral  life. 
Man  was  not  made  for  these. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  demands  our  serious  atten- 
tion, that  it  is  declared  by  the  very  same  authority  that 
they  were  mode  for  him.    They  are  not  mere  arbitrary 
appointments,  of  no  meaning  or  significance.    They  arc 
40 


(     116     } 

■.,f  not  useless  exactions  of  wanton  power,  contrived  only 

to  display  the  authority  of  the  master,  and  to  imbitter 
the  subjection  of  the  slave.  They  were  made  for  man. 
They  were  appointed  for  the  salutary  influence  which 
the  Maker  of  man  foresees  they  are  likely  to  have  upon 
his  life  and  conduct.  To  live  in  the  wilful  neglect  of 
them,  is  to  neglect  the  means  which  Infinite  Wisdom 
hath  condescended  to  provide  for  the  security  of  our 
future  condition.  The  consequence  naturally  to  be  ex- 
pected is  that  which  is  always  seen  to  ensue, — a  total 
profligacy  of  manners,  hardness  of  heart,  and  contempt 
for  God's  word  and  commandment. 

Having  thus  shown  the  true  distinction  between  the 
primary  duties  and  the  positive  precepts  of  religion,  I 
shall  in  some  future  discourses  proceed  to  the  particular 
subject  which  the  text  more  especially  suggests,  and  in- 
quire what  the  reverence  may  be,  due  to  the  Sabbath 
under  the  Christian  dispensation ;  which  I  shall  prove  to 
be  much  more  than  it  is  generally  understood  to  be,  if 
the  principles  of  men  are  to  be  inferred  from  their  prac- 
tice > 


SERMON    XXII. 


Mark  ii.  27. 


The  Sabbath  ibas  made  for  man,  and  ?iot  man  for  the 
Sabbath. 


W  HAT  is  affirmed  of  the  Sabbath  in  these  remarkable 
words  is  equally  true  of  all  the  ordinances  of  external 
worship.  The  maxim  therefore  is  general ;  and,  at  the 
same  time  that  it  establishes  a  distinction  between  the 
jprimary  duties  and  the  positive  institutions  of  religion, 
it  clearly  defines  the  circumstance  in  which  the  differ- 
ence consists.  Of  the  positive  institutions  of  religion, 
even  of  those  of  Divine  appointment,  whatever  sanctity 
may  be  derived  to  them  from  the  will  of  God,  which  is 
indeed  the  supreme  rule  and  proper  foundation  of  hu- 
man duty, — whatever  importance  may  belong  to  them 
as  necessary  means  for  the  attainment  of  the  noblest  end, 
the  improvement  of  man's  moral  character,  and  the  con- 
sequent  advancement  of  his  happiness, — yet  we  have  our 
Lord's  authority  to  say,  that  the  observance  of  them  is  not 
itself  the  end  for  which  man  was  created.  Man  was  not 
made  for  these.  Of  natural  duties  we  affirm  the  con- 
trary. The  acquisition  of  that  virtue  which  consists  in 
the  habitual  love  and  practice  of  them  is  the  very  final 
cause  of  man's  existence.  The  intrinsic  worth  and 
seemliness  of  that  virtue  is  so  great,  that  it  may  be  pre- 
sumed to  be  the  motive  which  determined  the  will  of 
Qod  tc^  ryr^atc  bcings  with  capacities  for  the  attainment. 


(     118    ) 

These,  therefore,  are  the  things  for  which  man  was 
made.  They  were  not  made  for  him.  They  derive  not 
their  importance  from  a  temporary  subserviency  to  the 
interests  of  man  in  his  present  condition — to  the  happi- 
ness and  preservation  of  the  individual  or  of  the  kind. 
They  are  no  part  of  an  arbitrary  discipline,  contrived, 
after  man  was  formed,  for  the  trial  and  exercise  of  his 
obedience.  Their  wortii  is  in  the  things  themselves 
In  authority  they  are  higher  than  law — in  time,  older 
than  creation — in  worth,  more  valuable  than  the  uni- 
verse. The  positive  precepts  of  religion,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  of  the  nature  of  political  institutions,  which 
are  good  or  bad  in  relation  only  to  the  interests  of  par- 
ticular communities.  These,  therefore,  were  made  for 
man.  And  although  man  hath  no  authority  to  give  him- 
self a  general  dispensation  from  any  law  which  hath  the 
sanction  of  his  Maker's  will,  yet,  since  God  hath  given 
him  faculties  to  distinguish  between  things  for  which  he 
is  made  and  things  which  are  made  for  him,  it  is  every 
man's  duty,  in  the  application  of  God's  general  laws  to 
his  own  conduct  on  particular  occasions,  to  attend  to 
this  distinction.  If,  by  an  affected  precision  in  the  ex- 
ercises of  external  devotion,  while  he  disregards  the 
great  duties  of  morality,  he  thinks  that  he  satisfies  the 
end  of  his  creation, — if  he  sets  sacrifice  in  competition 
with  mercy,  as  the  Jews  did,  when  under  the  pretence; 
of  rich  offerings  to  the  temple,  they  defrauded  their  pa- 
rents in  their  old  age  of  the  support  which  was  their 
due — and  when  they  took  advantage  of  the  rigour  with 
which  their  law  enjoined  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath, 
to  excuse  themselves  on  that  day  from  offices  of  charity, 
while  they  could  dispense  with  the  institution  for  the 
preservation  of  their  own  property, — whoever,  after 
these  examples,  thijiks  to  commute  for  natural  duties 
by  an  exact  observance  of  positive  institutions,  deceives 
himself,  and  offers  the  highest  indignity  to  God,  in  be- 


(     119     ) 

lieving,  or  aiFecting  to  believe,  that  he  will  judge  of  the 
conduct  of  moral  agents  otherwise  than  according  to  he 
truth  of  things — that  he  will  prefer  the  means  to  the  cid, 
the  subordinate  to  the  primary  duties.  On  the  otiier 
hand,  the  wilful  neglect  of  the  ordinances  of  religion, 
under  a  pretence  of  a  general  attention  to  the  weightier 
matters  of  the  law,  argues  either  a  criminal  security  of 
a  profane  indifference.  No  one,  whatever  pretensions  he 
may  make,  can  have  a  just  sense  of  the  importance  and 
the  difficulty  of  virtuous  attainments,  who  in  mere  in^ 
dolence  desires  to  release  himself  from  a  discipline 
which  may  diminish  the  difficulty  and  insure  the  effect : 
nor  is  it  consistent  with  just  apprehensions  of  the  Di- 
vine wisdom,  to  suppose  that  the  means  which  God 
bath  appointed  in  subservience  to  any  end  may  be  ne- 
glected with  impunity.  A  neglect,  therefore,  of  the  or- 
dinances of  religion  of  Divine  appointment,  is  the  sure 
symptom  of  a  criminal  indifference  about  those  higher 
duties  by  which  men  pretend  to  atone  for  the  omission-. 
It  is  too  often  found  to  be  the  beginning  of  a  licentious 
life,  and  for  the  most  part  ends  in  the  highest  excesses 
of  profligacy  and  irreligion. 

Having  thus  taken  occasion  from  the  text  to  explain 
the  comparative  merit  of  natural  duties  and  positive 
precepts,  and  having  shown  the  necessity  of  a  reverent 
attention  to  the  latter,  as  to  means  appointed  by  God  for 
the  security  of  virtue  in  its  more  essential  parts,  I  pro- 
ceed to  the  inquiry  \vhich  the  text  more  immediately' 
suggests, — the  sanctity  of  the  Sabbath  under  the  Chris- 
tian dispensation.  The  libertinism  of  the  times  renders 
this  inquiry  important ;  and  the  spirit  of  refinement  and 
disputation  has  rendered  it  in  some  degree  obscure.  I 
shall  therefore  divide  it  into  its  parts,  and  proceed  by  a 
slow  and  gradual  disquisition.  An  opinion  has  been  for 
some  time  gaining  ground,  that  the  observation  of  a 
Sabbath  in  tlie  Christian  church  is  a  n^^tter  of  mere 


(     120    ) 

conseot  and  custom,  to  Avliich  we  are  no  more  obliged 
by  virtue  of  j^ny  Divii>e  precept  than  to  any  other  cere- 
mony of  the  Mosaic  law.  I  shall  first,  therefore,  show 
you,  that  Christians  actually  stand  obliged  to  the  obser- 
vation of  a  Sabbath, — that  is,  to  the  separation  of  some 
certain  day  for  the  public  worship  of  God ;  and  I  shall 
reply  to  what  may  be  alleged  with  some  colour  of  reason 
on  the  other  side  of  tlie  question.  I  shall,  in  the  next 
place,  inquire  how  far  the  Christian,  in  the  observation 
of  his  Sabbath,  is  held  to  the  original  injunction  of 
keeping  every  seventh  day ;  and  which  day  of  the  seven 
is  his  proper  Sabbath.  When  I  have  shown  you  that 
the  obligation  to  the  observance  of  every  seventh  day 
actually  remains  upon  him,  and  that  the  first  day  of  the 
w^eek  is  his  proper  Sabbath,  I  shall,  in  the  last  place, 
inquire  in  what  manner  this  Christian  Sabbath  should 
be  kept. 

To  the  general  question,  What  regard  is  due  to  the 
institution  of  a  Sabbath  under  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion ?  the  answer  is  plainly  this, — Neither  more  nor  less 
than  was  due  to  it  in  the  patriarchal  ages,  before  the 
Mosaic  covenant  took  place.  It  is  a  gross  mistake  to 
consider  the  Sabbath  as  a  mere  festival  of  the  Jewish 
church,  deriving  its  whole  sanctity  from  the  Levitical 
law.  The  contrary  appears,  as  well  from  the  evidence 
of  the  fact  which  sacred  history  affords,  as  from  the 
reason  of  the  thing  which  the  same  history  declares. 
The  religious  observation  of  the  seventh  day  hath  a 
place  in  the  decalogue  among  the  very  first  duties  of  na- 
tural religion.  The  reason  assigned  for  the  injunction  is 
general,  and  hath  no  relation  or  regard  to  the  particular 
circumstances  of  the  Israelites,  or  to  the  particular  re. 
lation  in  which  they  stood  to  God  as  his  chosen  people. 
The  creation  of  the  world  was  an  event  equally  in- 
teresting to  the  whole  human  race;  and  the  acknowledg 
ment  of  God  as  our  Creator  is  a  dutv  in  all  ages  and  hi 


(     121     ) 

all  countries,  equally  incumbent  upon  every  individual 
of  mankind.  The  terms  in  whicli  the  reas6n  of  the  or- 
dinance is  assigned  plainly  describe  it  as  an  institution 
of  an  earlier  age.  "  Therefore  the  Lord  blessed  the  se- 
venth, and  set  it  apart:'  (That  is  the  true  import  of 
the  word  "  hallowed  it.")  These  words,  you  will  ob- 
serve, express  a  past  time;  It  is  not  said,  "  Therefore 
the  Lord  now  blesses  the  seventh  day,  and  sets  it  apart;'* 
but,  "  Therefore  he  did  bless  it,  and  set  it  apart  in  time 
past  ;  and  he  now  requires  that  you  his  chosen  people 
should  be  observant  of  that  ancient  institution."  And 
in  farther  confirmation  of  the  fact,  we  find,  by  the  six- 
teenth chapter  of  Exodus,  that  the  Israelites  were  ac- 
quainted with  the  Sabbath,  and  had  been  accustomed  to 
some  observance  of  it  before  Moses  received  the  tables  of 
the  law  at  Sinai.  When  the  manna  was  first  given  for  the 
nourishment  of  the  army  in  the  wilderness,  the  people 
were  told,  that  on  the  sixth  day  they  should  collect  the 
double  of  the  daily  portion.  When  the  event  was  found 
to  answer  to  the  promise,  Moses  gave  command  that  the 
redundant  portion  should  be  prepared  and  laid  by  for 
the  meal  of  the  succeeding  day ;  "  For  to-morrow,"  said 
he,  "  is  the  rest  of  the  holy  Sabbath  unto  the  Lord :  on 
that  day  ye  shall  not  find  it  in  the  field ;  for  the  Lord 
hath  given  you  the  Sabbath,  therefore  he  giveth  you  on 
the  sixth  day  the  bread  of  two  days."  He  mentions  the 
Sabbath  as  a  Divine  ordinance,  with  which  he  evidently 
supposes  the  people  were  well  acquainted;  for  he  al- 
leges the  well-known  sanctity  of  that  day  to  account 
for  the  extraordinary  quantity  of  manna  which  was 
found  upon  the  ground  on  the  day  preceding  it.  But 
the  appointment  of  the  Sabbath,  to  which  his  words 
allude,  must  have  been  earlier  than  the  appointment  of 
it  in  the  law,  of  which  no  part  was  yet  given :  for  this 
first  gathering  of  the  manna,  which  is  recorded  in  the- 
sixteenth  chapter  of  Exodus,  was  in  the  second  month 


(    122    ) 

of  the  departure  of  the  Israelites  from  Egypt ;  and  ai 
Sinai,  where  the  law  was  given,  they  arrived  not  till  the 
third.  Indeed,  the  antiquity  of  the  Sabbath  was  a 
thing  so  well  understood  among  the  Jews  themselves, 
that  some  of  their  rabbin  had  the  vanity  to  pretend  that 
an  exact  adherence  to  the  observation  of  this  day,  un- 
der the  severities  of  the  Egyptian  servitude,  was  the 
merit  by  which  their  ancestors  procured  a  miraculous 
deliverance.  The  deliverance  of  the  Israelites  from  the 
Egyptian  bondage  was  surely  an  act  of  God's  free 
mercy,  in  which  their  own  merit  had  no  share :  nor  is 
it  likely  that  their  Egyptian  lords  left  them  much  at 
liberty  to  sanctify  the  Sabbath,  if  they  were  inclined  to 
do  it.  The  tradition,  therefore,  is  vain  and  groundless : 
but  it  clearly  speaks  the  opinion  of  those  among  whom 
it  passed,  of  the  antiquity  of  the  institution  in  question  ; 
which  appears  indeed,  upon  better  evidence,  to  have 
been  coeval  with  the  world  itself.  In  the  book  of  Ge- 
nesis, the  mention  of  this  institution  closes  the  history 
of  the  creation. 

An  institution  of  this  antiquity,  and  of  this  general 
importance,  could  derive  no  part  of  its  sanctity  from 
the  authority  of  the  Mosaic  law ;  and  the  abrogation  of 
that  law  no  more  releases  the  worshippers  of  God  from 
a  rational  observation  of  a  Sabbath,  than  it  cancels  the 
injunction  of  filial  piety,  or  the  prohibitions  of  theft  and 
murder,  adultery,  calumny,  and  avarice.  The  worship 
of  the  Christian  church  is  properly  to  be  considered  as 
a  restoration  of  the  patriarchal,  in  its  primitive  simplicity 
and  purity ; — and  of  the  patriarchal  worship,  the  Sab- 
bath v^as  the  noblest  and  perhaps  the  simplest  rite. 

Thus  it  should  seem  that  Christians  are  clearly  ob- 
liged to  the  observance  of  a  Sabbath.  But  let  us  con- 
sider what  may  be  alleged  with  any  colour  of  reason  on 
the  other  side.  Now,  it  may  be  said,  that  the  argu- 
ment which  \\c  have  u^cd  for  the  perpetual  sanctity  of 


1 


(     123    } 

the  Sabbath  is  of  tliat  sort  which  must  go  for  nothing^ 
because  it  proves  too  much.  If  the  antiquitj^  and  the 
universality  of  the  original  institution  be  made  the 
ground  of  a  permanent  obligation  to  the  observance  ol 
it,  it  maj'-  seem  a  consequence,  that  the  practice  of  the 
world,  since  the  establishment  of  Christianity,  musj: 
have  been  far  more  deficient  than  hath  ever  been  sus- 
pected ;  since  upon  this  principle,  mankind,  it  may  be 
said,  should  still  be  held  to  various  ceremonies  which 
for  many  ages  have  sunk  into  disuse.  Circumcision,  it 
is  true,  will  not  come  within  the  question ;  for  t|iough 
four  or  perhaps  six  centuries  older  than  the  lau',  it  was 
only  a  mark  set  upon  a  particular  family.  But  the  pro- 
hibition of  the  use  of  blood  in  food  bore  the  same  an- 
tiquity, it  may  be  said,  with  respect  to  the  second  race 
of  men,  as  the  Sabbath  with  respect  to  the  first.  The 
prohibition  of  blood  followed  the  deluge  as  closely  as 
the  Sabbath  followed  the  creation :  the  one  was  no  less 
general  to  all  the  sons  of  Noah  than  the  other  to  all  the 
sons  of  Adam.  The  use  of  animals  at  all  for  food  is 
only  to  be  justified  by  the  Creator's  express  perjnission ; 
and  since  the  exception  of  the  blood  of  the  animal  ac- 
companied the  grant  of  the  flesh,  the  prohibition,  it  may 
be  said,  unless  it  was  at  any  time  solemnly  repealed, 
must  be  as  general  apd  as  permanent  as  the  licence.  In 
the  assembly  of  the  apostles  at  Jerusalem,  of  which  we 
read  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  the  Acts,  when  the  ques- 
tion was  solemnly  discussed  concerning, the  obligation 
of  the  Jewish  law  upon  the  converts  from  the  Gentiles, 
the  prohibition  of  blood  was  one  of  three  things  spe- 
cially reserved  in  the  solemn  act  of  repeal  in  Avhich  the 
deliberations  of  that  council  terminated.  "  It  seemed 
good  to  the  Holy  Ghost  and  to  us," — these  are  the 
words  of  the  apostqlical  re^crip.^,— "  it  seemed  good  to 
the  Holy  Ghost  and  to  us,  to  lay  upon  you  no  greater 
burthen  than  these  necessary  tilings, — ^that  yc  abstnia 
.11 


(     124     ) 

from  meats  offered  to  idols,  and  from  blood,  and  from 
things  strangled,  and  from  fornication." — It  seemed 
good  to  the  Holy  Ghost  and  to  the  apostles,  to  lay  no 
other  restraint  upon  the  Gentile  converts :  but  this  re- 
straint, of  which  an  abstinence  from  blood  made  a  part, 
it  seemed  good  to  the  apostles,  nor  to  the  apostles  only, 
but  to  the  Holy  Ghost  also,  to  lay ;  and  they  declare 
that  they  laid  it  on  as  a  necessary  thing:  whereas,  in 
this  same  decree,  Avhich  so  remarkably  reserves  the  ab- 
stinence from  blood,  the  Sabbath  is  not  at  all  reserved 
as  a  thing  either  of  necessity  or  expedience.  It  should 
seem,  therefore,  it  may  be  said,  that  the  prohibition  of 
blood  was  an  ordinance  of  more  lasting  obligation  than 
the  Sabbath :  the  argument  from  antiquity  and  original 
generality  applies  with  equal  force  to  both ;  and  the  pro- 
hibition is  enforced  by  the  authority  of  the  apostles,  who 
mention  no  necessity  of  any  observance  of  a  Sabbath  in 
the  Christian  church.  Upon  what  principle,  then,  is  the 
sanctity  of  the  Sabbath  maintained  by  those  who  openly 
disregard  the  prohibition  ? 

I  must  confess,  that  had  the  Sabbath  been  a  rite  of  the 
Mosaic  institution,  or  were  any  reason  to  be  assigned 
for  the  prohibition  of  blood  ^vhich  might  be  of  equal 
force  in  all  ages,  I  should  hold  this  argument  unanswer- 
able, and  feel  myself  compelled  to  admit  that  the  disre- 
gard of  the  Sabbatli  were  a  less  crime  than  the  use  of 
blood  :  but,  as  the  apostles  assembled  to  consider  whe- 
ther the  Gentile  converts  were  to  be  holden  to  any  part 
of  the  Je^vish  ritual,  and  if  to  any,  to  what  part,  it  was 
beside  their  purpose  to  mention  any  thing  that  was  not 
considered  by  those  who  consulted  them  as  a  branch  of 
Judaism.  Fornication,  indeed,  they  mention;  for  it  hath 
been  owing  to  that  refinement  of  sentiment  \\  hich  tlie 
Christian  Religion  hath  produced,  that  this  is  at  last  un- 
derstood to  *be  a  breach  of  natural  morality.  In  .the 
!icatlicn  world,  it  \^•I^s  nc\er  thought  to  be  a  crime,  ex- 


I 


(     125    ) 

cept  it  was  accompanied  with  injury  to  a  virgin's  ho- 
nour, or  with  violation  of  the  marriage  bed.  Absti- 
nence in  this  instance  was  considered  as  a  peculiarity  of 
Judaism ;  and  had  it  not  been  mentioned  in  the  aposto- 
lical decree,  the  Gentile  converts  would  not  have  been 
very  ready  to  discern  that  the  prohibition  of  this  crime 
is  included  in  the  seventh  commandment.  But  with  re- 
gard to  the  Sabbath,  although  it  was  gone  into  disuse 
among  the  heathen  long  before  the  appearance  of  our 
Saviour,  yet  the  most  ignorant  idolater  observed  some 
stated  festivals  in  honour  of  the  imaginary  divinities  to 
which  his  worship  was  addressed.  When  an  idolater, 
therefore,  was  converted,  the  natural  consequence  of  his 
conversion- — that  is,  of  his  going  over  from  the  worship 
of  idols  to  the  worship  of  the  true  God, — the  natural 
and  immediate  consequence  would  be,  that  he  would 
observe  the  festival  of  the  true  God  instead  of  the  fes- 
tival of  his  idol.  Thus  the  Gentile  convert  would  spon- 
taneously adopt  the  observation  of  the  Sabbath,  as  a 
natural  duty — a  branch,  indeed,  of  that  most  general 
commandment,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God.'* 
It  vvas  therefore  as  little  necessary  that  the  Sabbadi 
should  be  expressly  obser\ed  in  tlie  apostolical  decree, 
as  that  express  reservation  should  be  made  of  any  other 
of  the  ten  commandments:  nor  is  the  neglect  of  the 
Sabbath  more  to  be  justified  by  the  silence  of  the  apos- 
tolical council  concerning  the  necessity  of  the  olDserva- 
tion,  than  idolatry  or  blasphemy  is  to  be  justified  bj^ 
their  silence  about  the  second  or  the  third  command- 
ment. 

The  argument,  therefore,  from  the  parallel  anliquitj- 
of  the  injunction  of  a  Sabbath  and  the  prohibition  of 
blood,  rather  goes  to  prove  that  the  prohibition  is  in 
force,  than  to  invalidate  the  conclusion  of  the  perpetual 
sanctity  of  the  Sabbath  from  the  early  date  of  the  insti- 
tution,    -vccordingly,  it  hath  been  the  practice  of  very 


(     126     ) 

considemble  men,  within  our  own  memory,  to  abstaiii)- 
from  conscientious  scruples,  from  all  meats  prepared 
'.\'ith  the  blood  of  animals,  and  from  the  flesh  of  ani* 
inals  otherwise  killed  than  by  the  effusion  of  their  blood. 
The  truth,  however,  seems  to  be,  that  the  two  ordi- 
nances, the  observation  of  a  Sabbath  and  abstinence 
from  blood,  although  they  were  equally  binding  upon 
all  mankind  at  the  time  when  they  were  severally  en^ 
joined,  differ  nevertheless  in  this, — that  the  reason  of 
the  Siibbath  continues  invariably  the  same,  or,  if  it 
changes  at  all,  it  hath  been  gaining  rather  than  losing  its 
importance  from  the  first  institution.  The  reason  of 
the  prohibition  of  blood  was  f6unded  on  the  state  of 
mankind  before  the  coming  of  Christ,  and  was  peculiar 
to  those  early  ages.  The  use  of  the  Sabbath,  as  it  be- 
gan, will  end  only  with  the  world  itself.  The  abstinence 
from  blood  was  a  part  of  that  handwriting  of  ordinances 
to  which  sin  gave  a  temporary  importance,  and  which 
were  blotted  out  when  the  Messiah  made  an  end  of  sin 
by  the  expiatory  sacrifice  of  the  cross.  I  have  already 
had  occasion  to  remark,  that  it  was  the  great  end  of  the 
Numerous  sacrifices  of  the  Mosaic  ritual,  to  impress 
the  Je^vish  people  (for  a  season  the  chosen  depositaries 
of  revealed  truth)  with  an  opinion  of  the  necessity  of  a 
sanguinary  expiation  even  for  involuntary  offences, — to 
train  them  to  the  habitual  belief  of  that  awful  maxim, 
that  "  without  blood  there  shall  be  no  remission."  The 
end  of  tliose  earlier  sacrifices,  which  were  of  use  in  the 
patriarchal  ages,  was  unquestionably  the  same.  To  in- 
culcate the  same  important  lesson,  in  the  earliest  in- 
stance of  a  sacrifice  upon  record,  respect  was  had  to  the 
shepherd's  sacrifice  of  the  firstlings  of  his  flock,  rather 
than  to  the  husbandman's  offering  of  the  fruit  of  his 
ground;  and  for  the  same  reason,  by  the  prohibition 
laid  upon  the  sons  of  Noah,  and  afterwards  enforced  iii 
'l.r^  se\':rrcst  terms  in  the  Mosaic  law.  blood  was  sane 


(     127    ) 

liiied,  as  it  were,  as  the  immediate  instrument  of  atone^ 
ment.  The  end  of  the  prohibition  was  to  impress  man- 
kind with  a  high  reverence  for  blood,  as  a  most  holy 
thing,  consecrated  to  the  purpose  of  the  general  expia- 
tion :  but  this  expiatory  virtue  belonged  not  to  the  blood 
of  bulls  and  of  goats,  but  to  the  blood  of  Christ,  of  which 
the  other  was  by  God's  appointment  made  a  temporary 
emblem.  As  the  importance,  therefore,  of  all  inferior 
sacrifices,  and  of  all  the  deansings  and  purifications  of 
the  law,  ceased  when  once  the  only  meritorious  sacrifice 
had  been  offered  on  the  cross,  and  the  true  atonement 
made,  animal  blood,  at  the  same  time,  and  for  the  same 
reason,  lost  its  sanctity.  The  necessity,  therefore,  men- 
tioned in  the  apostolic  rescript,  so  far  as  it  regards  the 
restriction  from  the  use  of  blood,  can  be  understood  only 
of  a  temporary  necessity,  founded  on  the  charitable  con- 
descension, which,  in  the  infancy  of  the  church,  was 
due  from  the  Gentile  converts  to  the  inveterate  preju- 
dices of  Uieir  Hebrew  brethren.  Accordingly,  although 
we  read  of  no  subsequent  decree  of  the  apostolical  col- 
lege, rescinding  the  restriction  which  by  the  act  of  their 
first  assembly  they  thought  proper  to  impose,  yet  we 
find  what  is  equivalent  to  a  decree,  in  the  express 
licence  given  by  St.  Paul  to  the  Christians  of  Corinth, 
to  eat  of  whatever  meat  was  set  before  them,  provided 
they  incurred  not  the  imputation  of  idolatry,  by  pai'- 
taking  of  a  feast  upon  the  victim  in  an  idol's  temple. 
With  this  exception,  they  had  permission  to  eat  what- 
ever was  sold  in  the  shambles,  and  whatever  was  served 
up  at  table,  without  any  attention  to  the  legal  distinctions 
of  clean  and  unclean,  and  without  any  anxious  inquiry 
Upon  what  occasion  or  in  what  manner  the  animals  had 
been  slaughtered. 

Thus  it  appears,  that  the  prohibition  of  blood  in  food 
was  for  a  time  indeed,  by  the  generality  of  the  restraint, 
binding  upon  all  mankind:   but,  in  the  t;easou  of  the 


(    128    ; 

thing,  its  importance  was  but  temporary ;  and  when  its 
importance  ceased,  the  restraint  was  taken  off, — not  in- 
deed by  a  decree  of  the  whole  college  of  apostles,  but 
still  by  apostolical  authority.  The  observation  of  a 
Sabbath,  on  the  contrary,  was  not  only  a  general  duty 
at  the  time  of  the  institution,  but,  in  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  of  perpetual  importance ;  since,  in  every  stage  of 
the  world's  existence,  it  is  man's  interest  to  remember 
and  his  duty  to  acknowledge  his  dependence  upon  God 
as  the  Creator  of  all  things,  and  of  man  among  the  rest. 
The  observation  of  a  Sabbath  was  accordingly  enforced, 
not  by  any  apostolical  decree,  but  by  the  example  of 
the  apostles  after  the  solemn  abrogation  of  the  Mosaic 
law. 

Thus,  I  trust,  I  have  shown  that  the  observation  of 
a  Sabbath,  as  it  was  of  earlier  institution  than  the  reli- 
gion of  the  Jews,  and  no  otherwise  belonged  to  Judaism, 
than  as,  with  other  ordinances  of  the  patriarchal  church, 
it  "was  adopted  by  the  Jewish  legislature,  necessarily 
survives  the  extinction  of  the  Jewish  law,  and  makes 
a  part  of  Christianity.  I  have  shown  how  essentially  it 
differs  from  other  ordinances,  which,  however  they  may 
boast  a  similar  antiquity,  and  for  a  season  an  equal 
sanctity,  were  only  of  a  temporary  importance.  I  have 
shown  that  it  is  a  part  of  the  rational  religion  of  man, 
in  every  stage  and  state  of  his  existence,  till  he  shall 
attain  that  happy  rest  from  the  toil  of  perpetual  conflict 
with  temptation — from  the  hardship  of  duty  as  a  task, 
of  which  the  rest  of  the  Sabbath  is  itself  a  type.  I 
have  therefore  established  my  lirst  proposition,  tliat 
Christians  stand  obliged  to  the  observation  of  a  Sab- 
bath. I  am,  in  the  next  place,  to  inquire  how  far  the 
Christian,  in  tlie  observance  of  a  Sabbath,  is  held  to  the 
original  injunction  of  keeping  every  seventh  day;  and 
which  day  of  the  seven  is  liis  proper  Sabbath.  And  this 
shall  be  the  business  of  my  next  discourse. 


SERMON    XXIII. 


Mark  ii.  27. 


The  Sabbath  was  made  for  vian^  and  not  man  for  the 
Sabbath. 


1  HE  general  application  of  this  maxim  of  our  Lord, 
as  a  rule  establishing  the  true  distinction  between  natural 
duties  and  positive  institutions,  I  have  already  shown. 
I  have  already  shown  you,  that,  rightly  understood, 
whatever  pre-eminence  in  merit  it  may  ascribe  (as  it 
ascribes  indeed  the  greatest)  to  those  things  which  are 
not  good  because  they  are  commanded,  but  are  com- 
manded because  they  are  in  themselves  good,  it  never- 
theless as  little  justifies  the  neglect  of  the  external  ordi- 
nances of  religion  as  it  warrants  the  hypocritical  substi- 
tution of  instituted  forms  for  those  higher  duties  which 
it  teaches  us  to  consider  as  the  very  end  of  our  exist- 
ence. In  the  particular  inquiry  which  the  text  more 
immediately  suggests,  what  regard  may  be  due  to  the 
institution  of  the  Sabbath  under  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion, I  have  so  far  proceeded,  as  to  show,  in  opposition 
to  an  opinion  which  too  visibly  influences  the  practice 
of  the  present  age,  that  Christians  are  indeed  obliged  to 
the  observance  of  a  Sabbath.  It  remains  for  me  to  in- 
quire how  far  the  Christian,  in  the  observance  of  a  Sab- 
bath, is  held  to  the  original  injunction  of  keeping  every 
seventh  day ;  and  when  I  have  shown  you  that  this  ob- 
ligation actually  remains  upon  him,  I  am,  in  the  last 


(     130    } 

place,  to  sliow  in  what  manner  his  Sabbath  should  be 
kept. 

The  spirit  of  the  Jewish  law  was  rigour  and  severity. 
Rigour  and  severity  were  adapted  to  the  rude  manners 
of  the  first  ages  of  mankind,  and  were  particularly 
suited  to  the  refractory  temper  of  the  Jewish  people. 
The  rigour  of  the  law  itself  was  far  outdone  by  the  ri- 
gour of  the  popular  superstition  and  the  pharisaical  hy- 
pocrisy,— if,  indeed,  superstition  and  hypocrisy,  rather 
than  a  particular  ill-will  against  our  Lord,  were  the  mo- 
tives with  the  people  and  their  rulers  to  tax  him  witli  a 
breach  of  the  Sabbath,  when  they  saw  his  power  exerted 
on  the  Sabbath  day  for  the  relief  of  the  afflicted.  The 
Christian  law  is  the  law  of  liberty.  We  are  not  there- 
fore to  take  the  measure  of  our  obedience  from  the  letter 
of  the  Jewish  law, — much  less  from  Jewish  prejudices 
and  the  suggestions  of  Jewish  malignity.  In  the  sanctifi- 
cation  of  the  Sabbath,  in  particular,  we  have  our  Lord's 
express  autliority  to  take  a  pious  discretion  for  our 
guide,  keeping  constantly  in  view  the  end  of  the  insti- 
tution, and  its  necessary  subordination  to  higher  duties. 
But,  in  the  use  of  this  discretion,  I  fear  it  is  the  fashion 
to  indulge  in  a  greater  latitude  than  our  Lord's  maxims 
allow,  or  his  example  warrants ;  and  although  the  letter 
of  the  Jcv/ish  law  is  not  to  be  the  Christian's  guide,  yet 
perhaps,  in  the  present  instance,  the  particular  injunc- 
tions of  the  law,  rationally  interpreted  by  reference  to 
the  general  end  of  the  institution,  will  best  enable  us  to 
determine  what  is  the  obligation  to  the  observance  of  a 
particular  day, — what  the  proper  observation  of  the  day 
may  be, — and  how  far  the  practice  of  the  present  age 
corresponds  ^vith  the  purpose  and  spirit  of  tlie  ordi- 
nance. 

The  injunction  of  the  Sabbath,  in  the  fourth  com- 
luandment,  is  accompanied  with  the  history  and  the 
Sscason  of  the  original  institution.    Both  tlic  history  and 


(   131  ; 

ihe  reason  given  here  are  the  same  which  occur  in  the 
second  chapter  of  Genesis.  The  history  is  briefly  this, 
- — that  "  God  blessed  the  seventh  day,  and  hallowed  it." 
**  He  hallowed  it," — that  is,  God  himself  distinguished 
this  particular  day,  and  set  it  apart  from  the  rest ;  and 
"  he  blessed  it," — that  is,  he  appropriated  this  day  to  re- 
ligious exercises  on  the  part  of  man ;  and  he  engaged, 
on  his  own  part,  to  accept  the  homage  which  should  on 
this  day  be  offered  to  him.  He  promised  to  be  propi- 
tious to 'the  prayers,  public  and  private,  which  should 
be  ofi'ered  to  him  on  this  day  in  the  true  spirit  of  piety, 
humility,  and  faith.  This  is,  I  think,  the  import  of  the 
phrase  that  God  "  blessed  the  day."  He  annexed  the 
promise  of  his  especial  blessing  to  the  regular  discharge 
of  a  duty  enjoined.  The  reason  of  this  sanctification 
of  the  seventh  day  was  founded  on  the  order  in  which 
the  work  of  the  creation  had  been  carried  on.  In  this 
business,  we  are  told,  the  Divine  power  was  active  for 
six  successive  days ;  on  the  sixth  day  all  was  finished, 
and  on  the  seventh  God  rested :  his  power  was  no  longer 
exerted  in  the  business  of  making^  the  whole  world  be- 
ing now  made,  arranged,  and  finished. 

From  the  reason  thus  assigned  for  the  institution,  it  is 
easy  to  understand  that  the  worship  originally  required 
of  men  on  this  day  was  to  praise  God  as  the  Creator  of 
the  universe,  and  to  acknowledge  their  dependence  upon 
him  and  subjection  to  him  as  his  creatures :  and  it  is 
evident  that  this  worship  is  due  to  the  Creator  from  all 
men,  in  all  ages,  since  none  in  any  age  are  not  his  crea- 
tures. The  propriety  of  the  particular  appointment  of 
every  seventh  day  is  also  evident  from  the  reason  as- 
signed, if  the  fact  be  as  the  letter  of  the  sacred  history 
represents  it,  that  the  creation  was  the  gradual  work  of 
six  days.  It  hath  ever  been  the  folly  or  the  pride  of 
man,  to  make  a  difficulty  of  every  thing  of  which  he 
fiath  not  the  penetration  to  discern  the  reason.  It  is 
42 


{     132     ) 

very  certain  that  God  needs  no  time  for  the  execution 
of  his  purposes.  Had  it  so  pleased  him,  the  universe, 
in  its  finished  form,  with  all  its  furniture  and  all  its  in- 
habitants, might  have  started  into  existence  in  a  moment. 
To  say,  "  Let  the  world  be,"  had  been  as  easy  to  God 
as  "  Let  there  be  light;"  and  the  effect  must  have  fol- 
lowed. Hence,  as  if  a  necessity  lay  upon  the  Deity 
upon  all  occasions  to  do  all  to  which  his  omnipotence 
extends, — or  as  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  were  not  impossi- 
ble that  Infinite  power  should  in  any  instance  do  its  ut- 
most (for  whatever  hath  been  done,  more  must  be  within 
its  ability  to  perform,  or  it  were  not  infinite), — unmind- 
ful of  these  principles,  some  have  dreamed  of  I  know 
not  what  figures  and  allegories  in  that  part  of  the  Mo- 
saic history  which  describes  the  creation  as  a  work  per  = 
formed  in  time  and  distributed  into  parts ;  imagining,  in 
opposition  to  the  letter  of  the  story,  that  the  whole 
must  have  been  instantaneously  accomplished.  Others, 
with  more  discernment,  have  suspected,  that  when  once 
the  chaos  was  produced  and  the  elements  invested  with 
their  qualities,  physical  causes,  which  work  their  effect 
in  time,  were  in  some  measure  concerned  in  the  pro- 
gress of  the  business ;  the  Divine  power  acting  only  at 
inter\'als,  for  certain  puqDoses  to  which  physical  causes 
were  insufficient,  such  as  the  division  of  the  general 
chaos  into  distinct  globes  and  systems,  and  the  forma- 
tion of  the  first  pkmts  and  animals.  These  notions  are 
indeed  perfectly  consistent  with  sound  philosophy ;  nor 
am  I  aware  that  they  are  in  any  way  repugnant  to  the 
sacred  history :  but  from  these  principles  a  conclusion 
has  too  hastily  been  drawn,  that  a  week  would  be  too 
short  time  for  physical  causes  to  accomplish  their  part 
of  the  business ;  and  it  has  been  imagined,  that  a  day- 
must  be  used  figuratively  in  the  history  of  the  creation 
to  denote  at  least  a  thousand  years,  or  perhaps  a  longer 
period. 


I 


(     133     ) 

In  what  manner  the  creation  was  conducted,  is  a  ques- 
tion about  a  fact,  and,  like  all  questions  about  facts, 
must  be  determined,  not  by  theory,  but  by  testimony ; 
and  if  no  testimony  were  extant,  the  fact  must  remain 
uncertain.  But  the  testimony  of  the  sacred  historian  is 
peremptory  and  explicit.  No  expressions  could  be 
found  in  any  language  to  describe  a  gradual  progress  of 
the  work  for  six  successive  days,  and  the  completion 
of  it  on  the  sixth,  in  the  literal  and  common  sense  of 
the  word  "  day,"  more  definite  and  unequivocal  than 
those  employed  by  Moses  ;  and  they  who  seek  or  admit 
figurative  expositions  of  such  expressions  as  these,  seem 
to  be  not  sufficiently  aware,  that  it  is  one  thing  to  write 
a  history,  and  quite  another  to  compose  riddles.  The 
expressions  in  which  Moses  describes  the  days  of  the 
creation,  literally  rendered,  are  these :  When  he  has  de- 
scribed the  first  day's  work,  hp  says^ — "  And  there  was 
morning  and  there  was  evening,  one  day ;"  when  he  has 
described  the  second  day's  work,  "  There  was  morning 
and  there  was  evening,  a  second  day;"  when  he  has 
described  the  third  day's  work,  "  There  was  evening 
and  there  was  morning,  a  third  day."  Thus,  in  the  pro- 
gress of  his  narrative,  at  the  end  of  each  day's  work,  he 
counts  up  the  days  which  had  passed  off  from  the  be- 
ginning  of  the  business;  and,  to  obviate  all  doubt  what 
portion  of  time  he  meant  to  denote  by  the  appellation  of 
"  a  day,"  he  describes  each  day  of  which  tlie  mention 
occurs  as  consisting  of  one  evening  and  one  morning, 
or,  as  the  Hebrew  words  literally  import,  of  the  decay 
of  light  and  the  return  of  it.  By  Vv'hat  description  could 
the  word  "  day"  be  more  expressly  limited  to  its  literal 
and  common  meaning,  as  denoting  that  portion  of  time 
which  is  measured  and  consumed  by  the  earth's  revo- 
lution on  her  axis  ?  That  this  revolution  was  performed 
in  the  same  space  of  time  in  the  beginning  of  the  world 
US  now,  I  would  not  over  confidently  affirm ;  but  ^ve  are 


(     134    ) 

not  at  present  concerned  in  the  resolution  of  that  ques- 
tion :  a  day,  whatever  was  its  space,  was  still  the  same 
thing  in  nature — a  portion  of  time  measured  by  the  same 
motion,  divisible  into  the  same  seasons  of  morning  and 
noon,  evening  and  midnight,  and  making  the  like  part 
of  longer  portions  of  time  measured  by  other  motions. 
Tiie  day  was  itself  marked  by  the  vicissitudes  of  dark- 
ness and  light ;  and  so  many  times  repeated,  it  made  a 
month,  and  so  many  times  more,  a  year.  For  six  such 
days  God  was  making  the  heaven  and  the  earth,  the  sea, 
and  all  that  therein  is ;  and  rested  on  the  seventh  day. 
'J'his  fact,  clearly  established  by  the  sacred  writer's  tes- 
timony, in  the  literal  meaning  of  these  plain  words, 
abundantly  evinces  the  perpetual  importance  and  pro- 
priety  of  consecrating  one  day  in  seven  to  the  public 
worship  of  the  Creator. 

I  say  one  day  in  seven.  In  the  first  ages  of  the  world, 
the  creation  of  the  world  was  the  benefaction  by  which 
God  was  principally  known,  and  for  which  he  was 
chiefly  to  be  worshipped.  The  Jews,  in  their  religious 
assemblies,  had  to  commemorate  other  blessings — the 
political  creation  of  their  nation  out  of  Abraham's  fa- 
mily, and  their  deliverance  from  the  Egyptian  bondage. 
We-  Christians  have  to  commemorate,  beside  the  com- 
mon benefit  of  die  creation,  the  transcendent  blessing  of 
our  redemption — our  new  creation  to  the  hope  of  ever- 
lasting life,  of  which  our  Lord's  resurrection  to  life  on 
the  first  day  of  the  week  is  a  sure  pledge  and  evidence. 
You  see,  therefore,  that  the  Sabbath,  in  the  progress  of 
ages,  hath  acquired  new  ends,  by  new  manifestations 
of  the  Divine  mercy;  and  these  new  ends  justify  cor- 
respondent alterations  of  the  original  institution.  It  has 
been  imagined  that  a  change  was  made  of  the  original 
day  by  Moses — that  the  Sabbath  was  transferred  by  him 
from  the  day  on  which  it  had  been  originally  kept  in  the 
patriarclial  ages,   to  that  on  which   the   Israelites  left 


(     135    ) 

Egypt.  The  coujecture  is  not  unnatural ;  but  it  is,  in 
my  judgment,  a  mere  conjecture,  of  which  the  sacred 
history  aflbrds  neither  proof  nor  confutation.  This, 
however,  is  certain,  that  upon  our  Lord's  resurrection, 
the  Sabbath  was  transferred,  in  memory  of  that  event, 
the  great  foundation  of  the  Christian's  hopes,  from  the 
last  to  the  first  day  of  the  week.  The  alteration  seems 
to  have  been  made  by  the  authority  of  the  apostles,  and 
to  have  taken  place  on  the  very  day  on  which  our  Lord 
arose ;  for  on  that  day  the  apostles  were  assembled,  and 
on  that  day  sennight  we  find  them  assembled  again- 
The  celebration  of  these  two  first  Sundays  was  honoured 
with  our  Lord's  own  presence.  It  was  perhaps  to  set  a 
mark  of  distinction  upon  this  day  in  particular,  that  the 
intervening  week  passed  off,  as  it  should  seem,  without 
any  repetition  of  his  first  visit  to  the  eleven  apostles. 
From  that  time,  the  Sunday  was  the  constant  Sabbath  of 
the  primitive  church.  The  Christian,  therefore,  who 
devoutly  sanctifies  one  day  in  seven,  although  it  be  the 
first  day  of  tiie  week,  not  the  last,  as  was  originally  or- 
dained, may  rest  assured  that  he  fully  satisfies  the  spirit 
of  the  ordinance.  Had  tlie  propriety  of  the  alteration 
been  less  apparent  than  it  is  from  the  reason  of  the 
thing,  the  authority  of  the  apostles  to  loose  and  bind 
was  absolute. 

I  must  remark,  however,  that  their  authority  upon 
this  point  was  exercised  not  purely  in  consideration  of 
the  expediency,  but  upon  the  higher  consideration  of 
the  necessity  of  a  change, — a  necessity  arising,  as  I  con- 
ceive, out  of  the  original  spirit  of  the  institution.  The 
original  observation  of  a  Sabbath  on  every  seventh  day 
was  a  public  and  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the 
worship  of  the  Creator,  who  finished  his  uork  in  six 
days,  and  rested  on  the  seventh.  This  was  the  public 
character  by  which  the  worship  of  the  true  God  was 
distinguished,  that  his  festival  returned  every  seventh 


(     136    ) 

day;  and,- by  the  strict  observance  of  this  ordinance, 
the  holy  patriarchs,  and  the  Jews  their  descendants, 
made  as  it  were  a  public  protestation  once  in  every  week, 
against  the  errors  of  idolatry,  which,  instead  of  the  true 
God,  the  Creator  of  the  universe,  paid  its  adoration 
either  to  the  works  of  God,  the  sun  and  moon,  and  other 
celestial  boQics,  or  to  mere  figments  of  the  human  ima- 
gination, misled  by  a  diabolical  illusion — to  imaginary 
beings  presiding  over  the  natural  elements,  or  the  de- 
parted ghosts  of  deceased  kings  and  heroes — and,  in  the 
last  stage  of  the  corruption,  to  inanimate  images,  by 
which  the  supposed  influences  of  the  celestial  bodies 
and  physical  qualities  of  the  elements  were  emblemati- 
cally represented,  and  the  likenesses  of  the  deified  kings 
supposed  to  be  pourtrayed.  To  this  protestation  against 
heathenism,  the  propriety  of  which  binds  the  worshippers 
of  the  true  God  in  all  ages  to  a  weekly  Sabbath,  it  is 
reasonable  that  Christians  should  add  a  similar  protesta- 
tion against  Judaism.  It  was  necessary  that  Christians 
should  openly  separate  as  it  were  from  the  communion 
of  the  Jews,  who,  after  their  perverse  rejection  of  our 
Lord,  ceased  to  be  the  true  church  of  God :  and  the 
sanctification  of  the  Saturday  being  the  most  visible  and 
notorious  character  of  the  Jewish  ^\'qrship,  it  was  neces- 
sary that  the  Christian  Sabbath  should  be  transferred  to 
some  other  day  of  the  week.  A  change  of  the  day  be- 
ing for  these  reasons  necessary,  the  choice  of  the  apostles 
^vas  directed  to  the  first  day  of  the  week,  as  that  on 
Avhich  our  Lord's  resurrection  finished  and  sealed  the 
work  of  our  redemption ;  so  that,  in  the  same  act  by 
Avhich  we  acknowledge  the  Creator,  and  protest  against 
the  claims  of  the  Jews  to  be  still  the  depositaries  of  the 
true  religion,  we  might  confess  the  Saviour  whom  the 
Jews  crucified. 

You  ha\e  now  seen  that  the  Christian  clearly  stands 
obliged  to  the  observance  of  a  Sabbath, — that,  in  the 


(     137    ) 

observance  of  his  Sabbath,  he  is  held  to  the  original  in- 
stitution of  keeping  every  seventh  day, — and  that  his 
proper  Sabbath  is  the  first  day  of  the  seven.  By  keep- 
ing a  Sabbath,  we  acknowledg-e  a  God,  and  declare  that 
we  are  not  atheists ;  by  keeping  one  day  in  seven,  we 
protest  against  idolatry,  and  acknowledge  that  God  who 
in  the  beginning  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth ;  and 
by  keeping  our  Sabbath  on  the  first  of  the  week,  we 
protest  against  Judaism,  and  acknowledge  that  God  who, 
having  made  the  world,  sent  his  only  begotten  Son  to 
redeem  mankind.  The  observation,  therefore,  of  the 
Sunday  in  the  Christian  church,  is  a  pubhc  weekly  as- 
sertion of  the  two  first  articles  in  our  Creed — the  belief 
in  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  the  Maker  of  heaven  and 
earth ;  and  in  Jesus  Christ,  his  only  Son,  our  Lord. 

I  must  not  quit  this  part  of  my  subject  without  briefly 
taking  notice  of  a  text  in  St.  Paul's  epistle  to  the  Colos- 
sians,  which  has  been  supposed  to  contradict  the  whole 
doctrine  which  I  have  asserted,  and  to  prove  that  the 
observation  of  a  Sabbath  in  the  Christian  church  is  no 
point  of  duty,  but  a  matter  of  mere  compliance  with  an 
ancient  custom.  In  the  second  chapter  of  that  epistle, 
St.  Paul,  speaking  of  "  the  handwriting  of  ordinances 
which  is  blotted  out,  having  been  nailed  to  the  Re- 
deemer's cross,"*'  adds,  in  the  sixteenth  verse,  "  Let  no 
man  therefore  judge  you  in  meat  or  in  drink,  or  in  re- 
spect of  an  holiday,  or  of  the  new  moon,  or  of  the  Sab- 
bath days."  From  this  text,  no  less  a  man  than  the  ve- 
nerable Calvin  drew  the  conclusion,  in  which  he  has 
been  rashly  followed  by  other  considerable  men,  that  the 
sanctification  of  the  seventh  day  is  no  indispensable  duty 
in  the  Christian  church, — that  it  is  one  of  those  carnal 
ordinances  of  the  Jewish  religion  which  our  Lord  hath 
blotted  out.  The  truth  however  is,  that,  in  the  aposto- 
lical age,  the  first  day  of  the  week,  though  it  was  ob- 
served with  great  reverence,  was  not  called  the  Sabbath 


f     158    } 

clay,  but  the  Lord's  day, — that  the  separation  of  the 
Christian  church  from  tiie  Jewish  communion  might  be 
maiked  by  the  name  as  well  as  by  the  day  of  their 
weekly  festival ;  and  the  name  of  tlie  Sabbath  days  was 
appropriated  to  the  Saturdays,  and  certain  days  in  the 
Jewish  church  which  were  Hkewise  called  Sabbaths 
in  the  law,  because  they  were  observed  with  no  less 
sanctity.  The  Sabbath  days,  therefore,  of  which  St. 
J'aul  in  this  passage  speaks,  were  not  the  Sundays  of 
the  Christians,  but  the  Saturdays  and  the  other  Sab-* 
baths  of  the  Jewisli  calendar.  The  Judaizing  heretics, 
with  whom  St.  Paul  was  all  his  life  engaged,  were  stre- 
nuous advocates  for  the  observation  of  these  Jewish 
festivals  in  the  Christian  church;  and  his  (St.  Paul's) 
admonition  to  the  Colossians  is,  that  they  should  not  be 
disturbed  by  the  censures  of  those  who  reproached  them 
for  neglecting  to  observe  these  Jewish  Sabbaths  with 
Jewish  ceremonies.  It  appears  from  the  first  epistle  to 
the  Corinthians,  that  the  Sunday  was  observed  in  the 
church  of  Corinth  with  St.  Paul's  own  approbation.  It 
appears  from  the  Apocalypse,  that  it  was  generally  ob- 
served in  the  time  when  that  book  was  written  by  St. 
John ;  and  it  is  mentioned  by  the  earliest  apologists  of 
the  Christian  faith,  as  a  necessary  branch  of  Christian 
worship.  But  the  Sabbaths  of  the  Jewish  church  are 
abolished ;  nor  is  the  Christian,  in  the  observation  of  his 
own  Sabbath,  to  conduct  himself  by  the  childish  rules 
of  the  old  Pharisaical  superstition.  This  brings  me  to 
consider,  in  the  last  place,  the  manner  in  which  the 
Christian  Sabbath  is  to  be  kept. 

As  the  reason  of  the  institution  rests  on  such  common 
benefits  as  the  creation  of  the  world  and  man's  redemp- 
tion, it  is  evident  that  all  descriptions  of  men  stand  ob- 
liged to  the  duties  of  the  day.  No  elevation  of  rank 
may  exempt ;  no  meanness  of  condition  may  exclude  ; 
no  inexperience  of  youth  disqualifies  for  the  task ;  no 


(     139     ) 

decrepitude  of  age  is  unequal  to  the  toil ;  no  tenderness 
of  sex  can  suffer  from  the  fatigue.  Since  the  proper 
business  of  the  day  thus  engages  every  rank,  every  sex, 
and  every  age,  it  is  evident  that  it  requires  a  suspension 
of  the  ordinary  business  of  the  world ;  for  none  can  be 
at  leisure  for  secular  employments  when  all  are  occupied 
as  they  ought  to  be  in  devotion.  All  servile  labour  and. 
all  worldly  business  was  accordingly  prohibited  by  the 
Mosaic  law,  under  the  highest  penalties;  and  capital 
punishment  was,  in  an  early  instance,  actually  inflicted 
on  a  man  who  only  went  out  on  tiie  Sabbath  to  gather 
sticks  for  fuel.  Christian  magistrates  have  not  only  the 
permission,  they  have  the  injunction  of  our  Lord — they 
have  the  authority  at  least  of  inference  from  the  example 
of  what  he  did  himself,  and  what  he  justified  when  done 
by  his  disciples,  to  remit  much  of  the  rigour  of  this  in- 
terdiction. Such  a  cessation,  however,  of  business  and 
of  pleasure,  should  be  enforced,  as  may  leave  neitlier 
necessity  nor  temptation  upon  any  denomination  of  men 
in  the  community  to  neglect  the  proper  observance  of 
the  festival.  It  is  to  be  remembered,  that  although  the 
worship  of  God  is  the  chief  end  of  the  institution,  yet 
the  refreshment  of  the  lower  ranks  of  mankind,  by  an 
intermission  of  their  labours,  is  indisputably  a  secondary 
object.  "  Thou  shalt  rest  on  the  seventh  day,"  said 
the  law,  "  that  the  son  of  thy  handmaid  and  the  stranger 
may  be  refreshed."  A  handmaid,  in  the  language  of  the 
Old  Testament,  denotes  a  female  slave.  The  son  of  a 
handmaid  therefore  is  the  offspring  of  a  female  slave, 
which,  by  the  laws  of  the  Jews,  as  of  all  people  among 
whom  slavery  hath  been  allowed,  was  the  property  of 
the  master  of  the  mother.  The  stranger  seems  here  to 
be  set  in  opposition  to  the  homeborn  slave,  denoting 
a  foreign  slave  bought  with  money  or  taken  in  war. 
These  two  descriptions  of  the  homeborn  and  the  foreign 
slave  comprehend  the  whole  of  that  oppressed  and  help- 


(     140    j 

less  order  of  inankind.  It  is  expressly  provided  by  the 
law,  that  on  the  Sabbath  day  this  harassed  race  of  mor- 
tals should  have  their  refreshment.  Now,  as  these  in- 
junctions were  evidently  foimded  on  the  general  princi- 
ples of  philanthropy,  it  should  seem,  that  allowance  be- 
ing made  for  the  difference  between  the  rigour  of  the 
Jewish  and  the  liberality  of  the  Christian  dispensation,— 
and  allowance  being  also  made  for  the  different  circum- 
stances of  the  ancient  and  the  modern  world, — these  in- 
junctions of  the  suspension  of  the  labours  of  the  lower 
ranks  are  universally  and  perpetually  in  force,  in  all  parts 
of  the  world,  and  in  all  ages ;  the  rather,  as  they  are  no 
less  calculated  for  the  benefit  of  the  higher  than  for  the 
comfort  of  the  lower  orders.  It  is  useful  to  both  to  be 
admonished  at  frequent  intervals, — the  one  for  their 
consolation,  the  other  for  the  suppression  of  that  pride 
which  a  condition  of  ease  and  superiority  is  too  apt  to 
inspire.  It  is  useful  to  both  to  be  reminded  of  their 
equal  relation  to  their  common  Lord,  as  the  creatures  of 
his  power — the  subjects  of  his  government — the  chil- 
dren of  his  love,  by  an  institution  which  at  frequent  in- 
tervals unites  them  in  his  service.  Under  this  recollec- 
tion, the  servant  will  obey  with  fidelity  and  cheerfulness, 
and  the  superior  will  govern  with  kindness  and  lenity. 
It  is  of  the  highest  importance  to  the  present  good  hu- 
mour of  society,  and  to  the  future  interests  of  men  of, 
every  rank,  that  these  injunctions  should  be  observed 
^vith  all  the  exactness  which  the  present  state  of  society 
may  admit. 

The  labour  of  man  is  not  the  only  toil  which  the  Mo- 
saic law  prohibited  on  the  Sabbath  day.  "  On  the  se- 
venth day  thou  shalt  rest,  that  thine  ox  and  thine  ass 
may  rest."  It  was  a  principle  with  some  of  the  heathen 
moralists,  that  no  rights  subsist  between  man  and  the 
lower  animals, — that,  in  the  exercise  cf  our  dominion 
over  them,  ^ve  are  at  liberty  to  pursue  our  own  profit  and 


(     141     } 

convenience,  without  any  consideration  of  the  fiitigue 
and  the  miseries  which  they  may  undergo.  The  holy 
Scriptures  seem  to  speak  another  language,  when  they 
say,  "  The  righteous  man  is  merciful  even  to  his  beast;" 
and  as  no  reason  can  be  alleged  why  the  ox  or  the  ass  of 
Palestine  should  be  treated  with  more  tenderness  than 
the  kindred  brutes  of  other  countries,  it  must  be  upon 
this  general  principle,  that  mercy  is  in  some  degree  due 
to  the  animals  beneath  us,  that  the  Divine  legislator  of 
the  Jews  provided  on  the  Sabbath  for  their  refreshment. 
This,  therefore,  like  the  former  provision  (allowance 
still  being  made  for  the  different  spirit  of  Judaism  and 
Christianity),  is  to  be  considered  as  a  general  and  stand- 
ard part  of  the  institution,  which  is  violated  whenever, 
for  the  mere  pleasure  and  convenience  of  the  master 
and  the  owner,  either  servants,  or  even  animuls  are  sub- 
jected to  the  same  severity  of  toil  on  the  Sabbath,  which 
belongs  to  the  natural  condition  of  the  one  and  to  the  civil 
rank  of  the  other  on  the  six  days  of  the  week.  On  the 
Sabbath,  man  is  to  hold  a  sort  of  edifying  communion 
with  the  animals  beneath  him,  acknowledging,  by  a  short 
suspension  of  his  dominion  over  them,  the  right  of  the 
Creator  in  himself  as  well  as  in  them,  and  confessing 
that  his  own  right  over  them  is  derived  from  the  grant 
of  the  superior  Lord. 

It  appears  from  what  has  been  said,  that  the  pi'actice, 
which  is  become  so  common  in  this  country  among  all 
ranks  of  men,  of  making  long  jou'-nies  on  the  Sabbath 
day  without  any  urgent  necessity,  is  one  of  the  highest 
breaches  of  this  holy  institution.  It  breaks  in  upon  the 
principal  business  of  the  day,  laying  some  under  a  ne- 
cessity, and  furnishing  others  with  a  pretence  for  with- 
drawing themselves  from  the  public  assemblies ;  and  it 
defeats  the  ordinance  in  its  subordinate  ends,  depriving 
servants  and  cattle  of  that  temporary  exemption  from  fa- 
tigue which  it  was  iiitcndcd  both  should  enjoy.     This, 


(     142    ) 

like  other  evils,  hath  arisen  from  small  beginnings ;  and 
by  an  unperceived,  because  a  natural  and  a  gradual 
growth,  hath  attained  at  last  an  alarming  height.  Per- 
sons of  the  higher  ranks,  whether  from  a  certain  vanity 
of  appearing  great,  by  assuming  a  privilege  of  doing 
what  was  generally  forbidden,  or  for  the  convenience  of 
traveUing  when  the  roads  were  the  most  empty,  began, 
within  our  own  memory,  to  make  their  journies  on  a 
Sunday.  In  a  commercial  country,  the  great  fortunes 
acquired  in  trade  have  a  natural  tendency  to  level  all 
distinctions  but  what  arise  from  affluence.  Wealth  sup- 
plies the  place  of  nobility :  birth  retains  only  the  privi- 
lege of  setting  the  first  example.  The  city  presently 
catches  the  manners  of  the  court,  and  the  vices  of  the 
high-born  peer  are  faithfully  copied  in  the  life  of  tlie 
opulent  merchant  and  the  thriving  tradesman.  Accord- 
ingly, in  tlie  space  of  a  few  years,  the  Sunday  became 
the  travelling  day  of  all  who  travel  in  their  own  carriages. 
But  why  should  the  humbler  citizen,  whose  scantier 
meiuis  oblige  him  to  commit  his  person  to  the  crammed 
stage-coach,  more  than  his  wealthier  neighbour,  be  ex- 
posed to  the  hardship  of  travelling  on  the  working  days, 
when  the  multitude  of  heavy  carts  and  waggons  moving 
to  and  fro  in  all  directions  renders  the  roads  unpleasant 
and  unsafe  to  all  carriages  of  a  slighter  fabric ;  especially 
when  the  only  real  inconvenience,  the  danger  of  such 
obstructions,  is  infinitely  increased  to  him,  by  the 
greater  difficulty  with  which  the  vehicle  in  which  he 
makes  his  uncomfortable  journey  crosses  out  of  the  way, 
in  deep  and  miry  roads,  to  avoid  the  fatal  jostle?  The 
force  of  these  prmciples  was  soon  perceived ;  and,  in 
open  defiance  of  the  laws,  stage-coaches  have  for  several 
years  travelled  on  the  Sundays.  The  waggoner  soon 
understands  that  the  road  is  as  free  for  him  as  for  the 
coachman, — that  if  the  magistrate  connives  at  the  one 
he  cannot  enforce  the  law  against  the  other;  and  the 


(     14.3     ) 

Sunday  traveller  now  breaks  the  Sabbath  without  any 
advantage  gained  in  the  safety  or  pleasure  of  his  journey. 
It  may  seem,  that  the  evil,  grown  to  this  height,  would 
become  its  own  remedy :  but  this  is  not  the  case.  The 
temptation,  indeed,  to  the  crime,  among  the  higher 
ranks  of  the  people,  subsists  no  longer ;  but  the  rever- 
ence for  the  day  among  all  orders  is  extinguished,  and 
the  abuse  goes  on  from  the  mere  habit  of  profaneness. 
In  the  countrj-,  the  roads  are  crowded  on  the  Sunday, 
as  on  any  other  day,  with  travellers  of  every  sort:  the 
devotion  of  the  villages  rs  interrupted  by  the  noise  of 
the  carriages  passing  through,  or  stopping  at  the  inns  for 
refreshment.  In  the  metropolis,  instead  of  that  solemn 
stillness  of  the  vacant  streets  in  the  hours  of  the  public 
service,  which  might  suit,  as  in  onr  father's  days,  with 
the  sanctity  of  the  day,  and  be  a  reproof  to  every  one 
who  should  stir  abroad  but  upon  the  business  of  devo- 
tion, the  mingled  racket  of  worldly  business  and  plea- 
sure is  going  on  with  little  abatement;  and  in  the 
churches  and  chapels  which  adjoin  the  public  streets, 
the  sharp  rattle  of  the  whirling  phaeton,  and  the  graver 
rumble  of  the  loaded  waggoif,  mixed  with  the  oaths  and 
imprecations  of  the  brawling  drivers,  disturb  the  con- 
gregation and  stun  the  voice  of  the  preacher. 

These  scandals  call  loudly  for  redress:  but  redress 
wiM  be  in  vain  expected  from  any  increased  severity  of 
the  laws,  without  a  concurrence  of  the  willing  example 
of  the  gi'eat.  This  is  one  of  the  many  instances  in 
which  a  corrupt  fashion  in  the  higher  orders  of  society 
will  render  all  law  weak  and  ineffectual.  I  am  not  with- 
out hope  that  the  example  of  the  great  will  iiot  be  want- 
ing. I  trust  that  v.e  are  awakened  to  a  sense  of  the  im- 
portance of  religious  ordinances,  by  the  dreadful  exhi- 
bition of  the  mischiefs  of  irreligion  in  the  present  state 
of  the  neighbouring  apostate  nation ;  and  though  our  re- 
covery from  the  disease  of  carelessness  and  indifference  is 


(    144    ) 

yet  in  its  beginning,  appearances  justify  a  sanguine  hope 
of  its  continuance,  and  of  its  ultimate  termination, 
through  the  grace  of  God,  in  a  perfect  convalescence : 
and  when  once  the  duties  of  religion  shall  be  recom- 
mended by  the  general  example  of  the  superior  ranks, 
tjien,  and  not  till  then,  the  bridle  of  legal  restraint  will 
act  with  effect  upon  vulgar  profligacy. 

But,  in  the  application  of  whatever  means  for  the  re- 
medy of  the  evil, — whether  of  legal  penalttes,  which 
ought  to  be  enforced,  and  in  some  cases  ought  to  be 
heightened — or  of  the  milder  persuasion  of  example — 
or  of  the  two  united,  which  alone  can  be  successful, — 
in  the  application  of  these  various  means,  the  zeal  of  re- 
form, if  it  would  not  defeat  its  own  end,  must  be  go- 
verned and  moderated  by  a  prudent  attention  to  the 
general  spirit  of  Christianity,  and  to  the  general  end  of 
the  institution.  The  spirit  of  Christianity  is  rational, 
manly,  and  ingenuous;  in  all  cases  delighting  in  the 
substantial  works  of  judgment,  justice,  and  mercy,  more 
than  in  any  external  forms.  The  primary  and  general 
end  of  the  institution  is  the  public  worship  of  God,  the 
Creator  of  the  world  and  Redeemer  of  mankind. 

Among  the  Jews,  the  absolute  cessation  of  all  animal 
activity  on  their  Sabbath  had  a  particular  meaning  in  re- 
ference to  their  history ;  it  was  a  standing  symbolical 
memorial  of  their  miraculous  deliverance  from  a  stat^  of 
servitude.  But  to  mankind  in  general — to  us  Christians 
in  some  degree,  the  proper  business  of  the  day  is  the 
worship  of  God  in  public  assemblies,  from  which  none 
may  without  some  degree  of  crime  be  unnecessarily  ab- 
sent. Private  devotion  is  the  Christian's  daily  duty; 
but  the  peculiar  duty  of  the  Sabbath  is  public  worship. 
As  for  those  parts  of  the  day  which  are  not  occupied 
in  the  public  duty,  every  man's  own  conscience,  with- 
out any  interference  of  public  authority,  and  certainly 
without  any  officious  interposition  of  the  private  judg- 


(     145     } 

merit  of  his  neighbour, — every  man's  own  conscience 
must  direct  him  what  portion  of  this  leisure  should  be 
allotted  to  his  private  devotions,  and  what  may  be  spent 
in  sober  recreation.  Perhaps  a  better  general  rule  can- 
not be  laid  down  than  this, — that  the  same  proportion  of 
the  Sabbath,  on  the  whole,  should  be  devoted  to  reli- 
gious exercises,  public  and  private,  as  every  man  would 
spend  of  any  other  day  in  his  ordinary  business.  The 
holy  work  of  the  Sabbath,  like  all  other  work,  to  be 
done  well  requires  intermissions.  An  entire  day  is  a 
longer  space  of  time  than  the  human  mind  can  employ 
with  alacrity  upon  any  one  subject.  The  austerity  there- 
fore of  those  is  little  to  be  commended,  who  require  that 
all  the  intervals  of  public  worship,  and  whatever  remains 
of  the  day  after  the  public  duty  is  satisfied,  should  be 
spent  in  the  closet,  in  private  prayer  and  retired  medita^ 
tion.  Nor  are  persons  in  the  lower  ranks  of  society  to 
be  very  severely  censured — those  especially  who  are 
confined  to  populous  cities,  where  they  breathe  a  noxi- 
ous atmosphere,  and  are  engaged  in  unwholesome  oc- 
cupations, from  which,  with  their  daily  subsistence, 
they  derive  their  daily  poison — if  they  take  advantage 
of  the  leisure  of  the  day  to  recruit  their  wasted  strength 
and  harassed  spirits,  by  short  excursions  into  the  purer 
air  of  the  adjacent  villages,  and  the  innocent  recreations 
of  sober  society ;  provided  they  engage  not  in  schemes 
of  dissipated  and  tumultuous  pleasure,  which  may  dis- 
turb the  sobriety  of  their  thoughts,  and  interfere  with 
the  duties  of  the  day.  The  present  humour  of  the  com- 
mon people  leads  perhaps  more  to  a  profanation  of  the 
festival  than  to  a  superstitious  rigour  in  the  observance 
of  it :  but,  in  the  attempt  to  reform,  we  shall  do  wisely 
to  remember,  that  the  thanks  for  this  are  chiefly  due  to 
the  base  spirit  of  puritanical  hypocrisy,  which  in  the  last 
century  opposed  and  defeated  the  wise  attempts  of  go- 
vernmewt  to  regulate  the  recreations  of  the  day  by  au- 


(     146     } 

thority,  and  prevent  the  excesses  which  have  actually 
taken  place,  by  a  rational  indulgence. 

The  Sabbath  was  ordained  for  a  day  of  public  wor- 
ship, and  of  refreshment  to  the  common  people.  It 
cannot  be  a  day  of  their  refreshment,  if  it  be  made  a 
day  of  mortified  restraint.  To  be  a  day  of  worship,  it 
must  be  a  day  of  leisure  from  worldly  business,  and  of 
abstraction  from  dissipated  pleasure :  but  it  need  not  be- 
a  dismal  one.  It  was  ordained  for  a  day  of  general  and 
willing  resort  to  the  holy  mountain ;  when  men  of  every 
race,  and  every  rank,  and  every  age,  promiscuously — 
Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Scythian — bond  and  free — young 
and  old- — high  and  low — rich  and  poor — one  with  an- 
other— laying  hold  of  Christ's  atonement,  and  the  pro- 
ferred  mercy  of  the  gospel,  might  meet  together  before 
their  common  Lord,  exempt  for  a  season  from  the  cares 
and  labours  of  the  world,  and  be  "joyful  in  his  house 
©f  prayer." 


I 


SERMON    XXIV. 


John  iv.  42. 


TVe  have  heard  him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  indeed 
the  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  xuorld. 

1  WAS  in  an  early  period  of  our  Saviour's  ministry 
— in  the  beginning  of  the  first  year  of  it,  shortly  after 
his  first  public  appearance  at  Jerusalem,  that  the  good 
people  of  the  town  of  Sychar,  in  Samaria,  where  he 
made  a  short  visit  of  two  days  in  his  journey  home  to 
Galilee,  bore  that  remarkable  testimony  to  the  truth  of 
his  pretensions,  which  is  recorded  in  my  text.  "  We 
have  heard  him  ourselves,"  they  say  to  the  woman  of 
their  town  to  whom  he  had  first  revealed  himself  at  the 
well  by  the  entrance  of  the  city,  and  who  had  first  an- 
nounced him  to  her  countrymen.  "  We  no  longer  rely 
upon  your  report :  we  ourselves  have  heard  him.  We 
have  heard  him  propounding  his  pure  maxims  of  mo- 
rality— inculcating  his  lessons  of  sublime  and  rational 
religion — proclaiming  the  glad  tidings  of  his  Father's 
peace.  We  ourselves  have  heard  him  ;  and  \ve  are  con- 
vinced that  this  person  is  indeed  what  he  declares  him- 
self to  be :  we  know  that  this  is  indeed  the  Sa\iour  of 
the  Avorld,  the  Christ." 

This  profession  consists,  you  see,  of  two  parts.    The 
terms  in  which  it  is  stated  imply  a  previous  expectation 
of  these  S.amaritans  of  a  Christ  who  should  come ;  and 
44 


(     148     j 

declare  a  conviction  that  Jesus  was  that  person.    It  is 
very  remarkable  in  three  circumstances. 

First,  for  the  persons  from  whom  it  came.  They  were 
not  Je\vs :  they  were  Samaritans, — a  race  of  spurious 
Israelites,  sprung  from  the  forbidden  marriages  of  Jews 
with  heathen  families, — a  nation  who,  although  they 
professed  indeed  to  worship  the  God  of  Abraham  after 
the  rites  of  the  Mosaic  law,  yet,  as  it  should  seem  from 
the  censure  that  was  passed  upon  them  by  a  discerning 
and  a  candid  judge,  "  that  they  v.orshipped  they  knew 
not  wliiit," — as  it  should  seem,  I  say,  from  this  censure, 
they  had  but  very  imperfect  notions  of  the  nature  of 
the  Deity  they  served ;  ai¥i  they  were  but  ill  instructed 
in  the  true  spirit  of  the  service  which  they  paid  him. 
These  were  the  persons  who  were  so  captivated  with 
the  sublimity  of  our  Saviour's  doctrines,  as  to  declare 
that  he  who  had  so  admirably  discoursed  them  could  be 
no  other  than  the  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 

The  secoixl  thing  to  be  remarked,  is  the  very  just  no- 
tion these  Samaritans  express  of  the  office  of  the  Christ, 
whom  tl-fey  expected, — ^that  he  should  be  the  Saviour 
the  world.  In  the  original  language  of  the  New  Testa^ 
ment,  there  are  more  ^\ords  than  one  which  are  renderec 
by  the  word  "  world"  in  the  English  Bible.  One 
these  is  a  word  which,  though  it  properly  signifies  tl 
whole  of  the  habitable  globe,  is  often  used  in  a  moi 
confined  sense  by  those  later  Greek  writers  who  wer 
subjects  of  the  Roman  empire,  and  treat  of  the  affairs  o( 
the  Romans.  By  these  writers,  it  is  often  used  for  sc 
)iiuch  only  of  the  world  as  was  comprised  within  thfl 
limits  of  the  Roman  empire.  It  has  been  imagined  that 
the  evangelists,  following  in  this  particular  the  example 
of  the  politer  writers  of  tUeir  times,  have  used  this  same 
word  to  denote  what  was  peculiarly  their  world,  the  ter- 
ritory of  Judea.  Men  of  learning  in  these  later  ages 
have  been  much  too  fond  of  the  practice  of  framing 


(     149    ) 

expositions  of  Scripture  upon  these  grammatical  refine- 
ments. The  observation  may  be  partly  just:  in  many 
instances,  however,  it  hath  been  misapplied ;  and  I  would 
advise  the  unlearned  reader  of  the  English  Bible, 
wherever  the  world  is  mentioned,  to  take  the  word  in 
its  most  natural — that  is,  in  its  most  extended  meaning. 
This  rule  will  seldom  mislead  him;  and  the  few  in- 
stances in  which  it  may  be  incorrect,  are  certain  pas- 
sages of  history  in  which  exactness  of  interpretation  is 
not  of  great — at  least  not  of  general  importance.  In  the 
text,  however,  at  present  before  us,  the  original  word 
is  not  that  which  is  supposed  to  be  capable  of  a  limited 
interpretation.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  that  word  which 
is  used  by  the  sacred  writers  to  denote  the  mass  of 
the  imconverted  Gentile  world,  as  distinguished  from 
God's  peculiar  people.  Of  this  world,  therefore,  and 
bj^  consequence  of  the  whole  world,  the  Samaritans,  as 
it  appears  by  the  text,  expected  in  the  Christ  the  Sa- 
viour. It  appears,  too,  from  the  particulars  of  pur  Sa- 
viour's conference  with  the  woman  at  the  well,  which 
are  related  in  the  preceding  part  of  this  chapter, — it 
appears,  that  of  the  means  by  which  the  Messiah  was 
to  eifect  the  sah'^ation  of  the  world,  these  same  people 
had  a  very  just,  though  perhaps  an  inadequate  apprehen- 
sion. They  expected  him  to  save  the  world  by  teach- 
ing the  true  religion.  "  I  know,"  said  the  woman, 
"  when  the  Messiah  is  come,  he  will  tell  us  all  things,"- 
—all  things  concerning  the  worship  of  God ;  for  that 
w^as  the  topic  in  discussion.  The  circumstances  which 
the  evangelist's  narrative  discovers  of  this  woman's 
former  life,  give  us  no  reason  to  suppose  that  she  had 
been  a  persofi  of  a*  very  thoughtful  religious  turn  of 
mind,  which  had  led  her  to  be  particularly  inquisitive 
after  the  true  meaning  of  the  prophecies.  It  is  to  be 
supposed,  therefore,  that  the  notions  which  she  ex- 
pressed were  the  common  notions  of  her  countr^^     It 


(     150    ) 

was  the  notion,  therefore,  of  the  Samaritans  of  this  age, 
that  teaching  men  the  true  rehgion  would  be  in  great 
part  the  means  which  the  Messiah  would  employ  for  the 
general  salvation  of  mankind :  and  since  this  was  their 
notion  of  the  means  by  which  the  Messiah's  salvation 
should  be  effected,  they  must  have  placed  the  salva- 
tion Itself  in  such  a  deliverance  as  these  means  were  na- 
turally fitted  to  accomplish, — in  a  deliverance  of  man- 
kind from  the  corruptions  which  ignorance,  hypocrisy, 
and  superstition  had  introduced  in  morals  and  religion, 
and  particularly  in  the  rites  of  external  worship.  An- 
other thing  appears  by  the  woman's  profession, — that  the 
Samaritans  were  aware  that  the  time  was  actually  come 
for  this  deliverer's  appearance.  Jesus  had  said  to  her — 
"  The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  the  true  wor- 
shippers shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth ; 
for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him."  The  wo- 
man took  this  declaration  in  its  true  meaning.  She  an- 
swered, "  I  know" — (these  words  in  the  beginning  of 
the  woman's  answer  are  opposed  to  those  in  which  our 
Saviour  had  bespoken  her  attention,  "  Believe  me.") 
*'  You  have  my  belief,"  she  said.  "  I  know  you  tell 
me  what  is  true :  I  know  that  the  Messiah  is  just  now 
coming  (that  is  the  precise  meaning  of  the  original 
words) :  I  know  that  the  appointed  time  is  come — that 
the  Messiah  must  presently  arrive;  and  I  know  that 
■when  that  person  is  come,  he  will  tell  us  all  things." 
Great  and  innumerable  are  the  mysteries  of  godliness. 
These  Samaritans,  who  knew  not  what  they  worshipped, 
had  truer  notions  of  the  Messiah's  office,  and  of  tne  na- 
ture and  extent  of  the  deliverance  he  was  to  work,  than 
the  Jews  had,  who  for  many  ages  had  been  the  chosen 
depositaries  of  the  oracles  of  God.  The  Samaritans 
looked  for  a  spiritual,  not  a  temporal — for  an  universal, 
not  a  national  deliverance  ;  and,  by  a  just  interpretation 
of  the  signs  of  the  times,  they  were  apprized,  that  tlie 


1 


i 


(     151     ) 

time  in  which  Jesus  of  Nazareth  arose  was  the  season 
marked  by  the  prophetic  spirit  for  the  Messiah's  appear- 
ance. Attend,  I  beseech  you,  to  this  extraordinary 
fact,  deduced,  if  I  mistake  not,  with  the  highest  evi- 
dence, from  the  pubUc  profession  of  the  Sycharites 
which  is  contained  in  my  text,  connected  with  the  par- 
ticular professions  of  the  woman.  This  fact  will  lead  us 
to  interesting  speculations,  and  to  conclusions  of  the 
highest  importance.  The  use  I  would  at  present  make 
of  it,  is  only  to  admonish  you,  by  this  striking  instance, 
of  how  little  benefit  what  are  called  the  external  means 
of  grace  may  prove — the  advantages  even  of  a  Divine 
revelation, — of  how  little  benefit  they  may  prove  to  those 
■whose  minds  are  occupied  with  adverse  prejudices,  or 
who  trust  so  far  to  that  partial  favour  of  the  Deity,  of 
which  they  erroneously  conceive  the  advantages  of  their 
present  situation  to  be  certain  signs,  as  to  be  negligent 
of  their  own  improvement.  On  the  other  hand,  you 
see  what  a  proficiency  may  be  made,  by  God's  blessing, 
on  the  diligent  use  of  scanty  talents.  The  Samaritans, 
you  see,  who  were  npt  included  in  the  commonwealth 
of  Israel,  who  had  no  light  but  what  came  to  them  ob- 
liquely, as  it  were,  bj'^  an  irregular  reflection  from  the 
Jewish  temple — no  instruction  but  that  of  fugitive 
priests,  and  under  the  protection  of  a  heathen  prince, — 
these  Samaritans  had  so  far  improved  under  this  imper- 
fect discipline,  as  to  attain  views  of  the  promised  re- 
demption, of  which  the  Jews'  themselves  missed,  whom 
the  merciful  providence  of  God  had  placed  under  the 
immediate  tuition  of  Moses  and  the  prophets. 

I  return  to  the  analysis  of  my  text.  The  third  cir- 
cumstance to  be  remarked  in  this  profession  of  the  Sy- 
charites, is  the  great  warmth  and  energy  of  expression 
with  which  they  declare  their  conviction  that  Jesus  Avas 
that  universal  Saviour  whose  arrival  at  this  season  they 
expected.    "We/f«ow,"  they  say  to  the  woman  (this 


(     152    } 

word  expresses  an  assurance  of  the  mind  far  stronger 
than  belief.)  "  We  give  entire  credit  to  your  report. 
But  your  assertion  is  no  longer  the  ground  of  our  belief ; 
our  persuasion  goes  far  beyond  any  belief  founded  upon 
the  testimony  of  a  third  person.  We  believe  your  re- 
port ;  but  we  believe  it  because  we  ourselves  have  heard 
him :  and  we  know  and  can  maintain,  each  of  us  upon 
his  own  proper  knowledge  and  conviction,  that  this 
person  is  indeed  the  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world." 
Would  God,  that  all  who  now  name  the  name  of  Christ, 
I  had  almost  said,  were  Sycharites !  But  would  God, 
they  all  were  animated  with  that  full-grown  confidence 
of  faith,  which,  in  a  visit  of  two  days,  our  great  Mas- 
ter's preaching  had  raised  to  such  strength  and  maturity 
in  the  honest  hearts  of  these  half-taught  Samaritans ! 

These  facts,  then,  are  clearly  deducible  from  the  text, 
— that  the  Samaritans  of  our  Saviour's  day,  no  less 
than  the  more  instructed  Jews,  expected  a  Messiah, — 
that  they  knew,  no  less  than  the  Jews,  that  the  time  was 
come  for  his  appearance, — :that,  in  the  Messiah,  they 
expected  not,  like  the  mistaking  Jews,  a  Saviour  of  the 
Jewish  nation  only,  or  of  Abraham's  descendants,  but 
of  the  world — a  Saviour  of  the  world  from  moral  rather 
than  from  physical  evil. 

Of  these  facts,  I  may  hereafter,  with  God's  gracious 
assistance,  endeavour  to  investigate  the  causes.  The 
speculation  will  be  no  less  improving  than  curious.  It 
will  give  us  occasion  to  inquire  by  what  means  God 
had  provided  that  something  of  a  miraculous,  beside 
the  natural  witness  of  himself,  should  remain  among 
the  Gentiles  in  the  darkest  ages  of  idolatry.  We  shall 
find,  if  I  mistake  not,  that  a  miraculous  testimony  of 
God,  as  the  tender  parent  of  mankind,  founded  upon 
early  revelations  and  wide- spread  prophecies,  beside  that 
testimony  which  the  works  of  nature  bear  to  him  as  the 
\iniversal  Lord,  U'as  ever  existii^  in  the  heathen  world, 


1 


i 


(     153    ) 

although  for  many  ages  the  one  was  little  regarded  and 
the  other  laj^  buried  and  concealed.  We  shall,  beside?, 
have  occasion  to  consider  and  to  explain  many  prophe- 
cies that  lie  scattered  in  the  books  of  Moses.  When  I 
have  shown  you  what  were  the  foundations  of  the  pre- 
vious faith  of  the  Samaritans  in  the  Messiah  to  come,  I 
may  then  proceed  to  inquire  upon  what  evidence  the 
people  of  Sychar  were  induced  to  believe  that  Jesus 
was  the  expected  person.  But,  as  these  topics  will  re- 
quire some  accuracy  and  length  of  disquisition,  I  shall 
for  the  present  decline  them ;  and  I  shall  bring  my  pre- 
sent discourse  to  a  conclusion,  when  I  have  mentioned 
and  considered  a  difficulty  which  some  find  in  the  story 
of  our  Lord's  visit  to  the  town  of  Sychar,  and  of  his 
conference  with  the  woman  at  the  well, — and  which 
they  think  a  great  one,  though,  in  my  judgment,  it  is 
either  altogether  groundless,  or,  if  it  have  any  founda- 
tion, it  is  nevertheless  entirely  removed  by  the  discovery 
which  my  text  makes  of  the  state  of  the  Samaritans' 
faith  at  the  time  of  our  Lord's  appearance.  Whence 
was  it,  it  hath  been  said,  that  Jesus,  who  declared 
himself  not  sent  save  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of 
Israel,  should,  to  these  Samaritans  (a  race  which,  in  a 
more  advanced  period  of  his  ministry,  he  ranked  with 
Gentiles,  when  he  first  sent  his  apostles  out  to  announce 
the  approach  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  forbidding  them 
to  go  into  any  Gentile  province,  or  to  enter  any  Sama- 
ritan town), — whence  was  it,  that  in  this  early  period, 
to  these  Samaritans,  and  in  particu]^,  to  a  woman  of 
that  country  whose  character  at  that  time  was  not  irre- 
proachable, whatever  her  succeeding  life  might  be  when 
she  became  a  disciple  of  our  Lord, — whence  was  it,  that 
at  this  early  period,  in  this  country,  and  to  this  woman, 
our  Lord  declared  himself  more  e  plicitly  than  it  is  sup- 
posed he  had  yet  done  in  any  pait  of  Judea,  or  even  in 
private  among  his  own  disciples  ? 


(     154     ) 

Perhaps  the  supposition  which  creates  this  difficulty 
-r-tl^  supposition  that  Jesus  had  not  declared  himself 
explicitly,  either  among  the  Jews  in  general,  or  to  any 
of  his  disciples  in  private — may  be  unfounded  ; — at 
least,  it  is  no  proof  that  it  is  true,  that  w^  read  not  in 
any  of  the  four  evangelists,  that  Jesus  had,  at  any  time 
before  this  interview  with  the  Sycharitc  woman,  said  to 
any  one  either  in  public  or  in  private,  "  I  am  the  Mes- 
siali."  To  those  who  consider  the  abridged  manner  in 
which  the  evangelists  have  written — in  which  they  pro- 
fessed to  write  the  story  of  their  Master's  life,  omitting 
many  more  incidents  than  they  have  related, — to  those 
who  consider  this  circumstance,  it  will  be  no  argument 
that  no  declaration  equally  explicit  had  been  previously 
made,  that  none  such  is  recorded.  The  important  trans- 
actions of  the  whole  interval  between  our  Lord's  bap- 
tism and  his  return  into  Galilee  after  the  first  passover, 
which  are  contained  the  four  first  chapters  of  St.  John's 
gospel,  the  three  other  evangelists  have  altogether  passed 
by ;  and  those  who  are  read  in  history,  either  sacred  or 
profane,  well  know,  that  the  negative  of  any  probable 
fact  is  never  to  be  concluded  from  the  silence  and  omis- 
sion even  of  the  most  accurate  and  exact  historians. 
From  the  narrative  contained  in  the  three  first  chapters 
of  St.  John's  gospel,  my  conclusion,  I  confess,  would 
be,  that  our  blessed  Saviour  from  the  very  first  was  suf- 
ficiently explicit,  with  his  select  associates,  upon  the 
general  point  of  his  pretensions,  and  neither  at  Jerusa- 
lem nor  in  Galilee  at  all  reserved  in  public.  But,  grant- 
ing the  truth  of  the  supposition  upon  which  the  difficulty 
is  raised,  I  say  tlie  solution  of  the  difficulty  is  easy  to  be 
found,  in  the  view  which  the  text  displays  of  the  reli- 
gious opinions  of  the  Samaritans  at  the  time  of  our 
Lord's  visit  to  the  town  of  Sychar.  The  Samaritans, 
at  that  time,  had  truer  notions  of  the  Messiah's  cha- 
racter and  office — I  will  not  say  than  any  that  were 


(    155    ) 

commonly  to  be  found  among  the  Jews — but  I  will  say, 
than  any  one  even  of  the  apostles  had,  before  their  minds 
were  enlightened  by  the  Holj'^  Spirit,  after  our  Lord's 
ascension.  Now,  we  are  told  that  it  is  one  of  the  max- 
ims of  God's  government,  "  that  to  him  that  hath" — to 
him  that  hath  acquisitions  of  his  own,  made  by  an  as- 
siduous improvement  of  his  talents,  by  a  studious  culti- 
vation of  his  natural  endowments,  and  a  diligent  use  of 
the  external  means  of  knowledge  which  have  been  af- 
forded him — "  to  him  shall  be  given"  the  means  of 
greater  attainments ;  "  but  from  him  that  hath  not" — 
from  him  who  can  show  no  fruits  of  his  own  industry — 
"  from  him  shall  be  taken  even  that  which  he  seemeth 
to  have."  This  unprofitable  servant,  in  the  natural 
course  of  things,  and  by  the  just  judgment  of  God,  shall 
lose  the  advantages  which  through  sloth  and  indolence 
he  hath  neglected  to  improve.  By  this  maxim,  every 
particular  person's  rank  and  station  will  be  determined 
in  the  world  to  come.  If  it  is  not  constandy  observed 
in  the  present  world,  the  necessity  of  departing  from  it 
is  either  the  result  of  that  disorder  and  irregularity 
which  man's  degeneracy  hath  introduced,  or  it  may  be 
an  essential  part  of  the  constitution  of  a  probationary 
state.  Still,  in  general,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
the  external  light  of  revelation,  like  the  internal  influ- 
ences of  the  Spirit,  when  no  particular  good  purposes  of 
Providence  are  to  be  answered  by  a  more  arbitrary  and 
unequal  distribution  of  it,^ — in  general,  it  is  reasonable 
to  suppose,  that  it  is  dispensed  to  different  persons  in 
proportion  to  the  inclination  and  ability  to  profit  by  it 
which  the  searcher  of  hearts  discerns  in  each.  Where, 
then,  is  the  wonder  that  our  Saviour  should  declare 
himself  so  openly  to  these  honest  Sycharites,  who  were 
tlien  earnestlj-  looking  for  the  great  redemption,  whose 
iiearts  ^'ere  ready  and  whose  understandings  were  pre- 
pared to  recei\'e  such  a  deliverer  as  Jesus  pretended  to 
4S 


(     156    ) 

be— to  acknowledge  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  although 
he  came  in  the  form  of  a  servant  ?  Where  is  the  won- 
der that  he  should  make  this  great  discovery  in  the  first 
instance  to  a  weak  woman,  laden  with  the  follies  of  her 
youth,  if,  notwithstanding  the  irregularity  of  her  past  life, 
he  discovered  in  her  heart  a  soil  in  which  his  holy  doc- 
trine might  take  root  and  flourish  ?  The  restriction  laid 
upon  the  apostles,  in  their  first  mission,  not  to  visit  the 
Samaritans,  was  probably  founded  on  reasons  of  policy, 
not  on  any  dislike  of  the  Samaritans.  It  might  have 
obstructed  the  accomplishment  of  our  Saviour's  great 
design,  had  the  Samaritan  multitude  at  that  time  risen 
on  his  side;  as  the  Jewish  multitude,  if  I  conjecture 
aright,  was  ripe  to  rise,  had  he  declared  himself  the 
temporal  Messiah  which  they  expected.  But  how,  then, 
would  man's  redemption  have  been  effected,  which  re- 
quired that  his  blood  should  flow  for  our  crime — that 
he,  as  the  representative  of  guilty  man,  should  suffer  ca- 
pital punishment  as  a  criminal?  It  was  probably  for 
this  reason  that  the  public  call  was  not  to  be  given  to 
Samaria  in  his  life-time,  lest  Samaria  should  obey  it. 
This,  at  least,  seems  consistent  with  the  general  politics 
of  our  Saviour's  life ;  for  it  is  very  remarkable,  that  as 
he  grew  in  public  fame,  he  became  more  reserved  with 
his  friends  and  more  open  with  his  enemies.  This  ap- 
pears in  a  very  striking  manner  in  the  circumstances  of 
his  last  journey  to  Jerusalem,  when  he  went  up  thither 
to  return  home  no  more  till  he  had  finished  the  great 
alcHiement.  From  Galilee,  where  his  friends  were  nu- 
merous and  his  party  strong,  he  stole  away  in  secret : 
through  Samaria,  where  he  was  then  less  known,  he 
made  a  more  public  progress:  Jerusalem,  where  the 
faction  of  his  enemies  prevailed,  he  entered  in  open 
triumph:  in  the  temple,  he  bid  defiance  to  the  chief 
priests  and  rulers;  telling  them,  that  if,  at  their  r-*^ quest, 
he  should    silence   the  acclamations  of  his   followers 


(     157    ) 

(which  he  refused  to  do),  the  stones  of  the  building 
would  proclaim  his  tides,  and  salute  the  present  Deity. 
From  similar  motives,  it  may  reasonably  be  presumed, 
our  Saviour,  in  the  beginning  of  his  ministry,  honoured 
the  forward  faith  of  the  Samaritans  w  ilh  an  open  avowal 
of  his  person  and  his  office.  In  a  more  advanced  period, 
bent  on  the  speedy  execution  of  his  gi'eat  design,  he 
would  not  call  them  to  liis  party,  lest,  by  securing  his 
person,  they  should  thwart  his  purpose. 

And  now,  from  these  contrasted  examples  of  Sama- 
ritan faith  and  Jewish  blindness,  let  every  one  take  en- 
couragement, and  let  every  one  learn  the  necessity  of 
assiduity  in  self-improvement.  Does  any  one  whose 
thoughtless  heart  has  hitherto  been  set  upon  the  lust  of 
the  eye,  the  pomp  of  the  world,  or  the  pride  of  life, 
begin  now  to  perceive  the  importance  of  futurity? 
Does  any  one  whom  the  violence  of  passion  hath  carried 
into  atrocious  crimes,  which  repetition  hatli  rendered 
habitual  and  familiar,  begin  to  perceive  his  danger? — 
would  he  wish  to  escape  it,  if  an  escape  were  possible  ? 
— Let  him  then  not  be  discouraged  by  any  enormities 
of  his  preceding  life.  To  become  Christ's  disciple, 
every  one  who  wishes  is  permitted:  every  one's  past 
sins  are  forgiven  from  the  moment  that  he  resolves  to 
conform  to  the  precepts  and  example  of  his  Saviour. 
Hfi  who  made  an  open  discovery  of  himself — an  early 
proffer  of  salvation  to  a  people  who,  though  not  idola- 
ters, had  but  imperfectly  known  the  Father, — he  who, 
in  a  conference,  the  occasion  of  which  was  evidendy  of 
his  own  seeking,  revealed  himself  to  a  woman  living  in 
impure  concubinage  with  the  sixth  man  she  had  called 
her  husband,-— /z^  who  forgave  the  sinner  that  perfumed 
jiis  feet  and  bathed  them  with  the  tears  of  her  repent- 
ance,— he  who  absolved  the  adultress  taken  in  the  fact, 
— he  who  called  Saul  the  persecutor  to  be  a  pillar  and 
an  apostle  of  the  faith  he  hnd  so  cruejly  oppressed, — Z?? 


(    158     ) 

who  from  the  cross  bore  the  penitent  companion  of  his 
last  agonies  to  paradise, — HE  hath  said — and  you  have 
seen  how  his  actions  accorded  with  his  words — he  hath 
said — "  Him  that  cometh  to  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast 
out."  "  Him  that  cometh  to  me  in  humility  and  peni- 
tence, I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.  In  no  wise, — in  no  re- 
sentment of  any  crimes,  not  even  of  blasphemy  and  in- 
fidelity previous  to  his  coming,  will  I  exclude  him  from 
the  light  of  my  doctrine — from  the  benefits  of  my 
atonement — from  the  glories  of  my  kingdom."  Come, 
therefore,  unto  him,  all  ye  that  are  heavy  laden  with 
your  sins.  By  his  own  gracious  voice  he  called  you 
while  on  earth :  by  the  voice  of  his  ambassadors  he  con- 
tinueth  to  call ;  he  calleth  you  now  bj^  mine.  Come 
inito  him,  and  he  shall  give  you  rest, — rest  from  the 
hard  servitude  of  sin,  and  appetite,  and  guilty  fear.  That 
yoke  is  heavy, — that  burthen  is  intolerable  :  his  yoke  is 
easy,  and  his  burthen  light.  But  come  in  sincerity; — 
dare  not  to  come  in  hypocrisy  and  dissimulation.  Thhik 
not  that  it  will  avail  you  in  the  last  day,  to  have  called 
yourselves  Christians — to  have  been  born  and  educated 
imder  the  gospel  light — to  have  lived  in  the  external 
communion  of  the  church  on  earth, — if  all  the  while 
your  hearts  have  holden  no  communion  with  its  Head 
in  heaven.  If,  instructed  in  Christianitj^  and  professing 
to  believe  its  doctrines,  yc  lead  the  lives  of  unbelievers, 
it  will  avail  you  nothing  in  the  next,  to  have  enjoyed 
in  this  world,  like  the  Jews  of  old,  advantages  which  ye 
despised, — to  have  had  the  custody  of  a  holy  doctrine, 
which  never  touched  your  hearts — of  a  pure  command- 
ment, by  the  light  of  which  ye  never  walked.  To  those 
who  disgrace  the  doctrine  of  their  Saviour  by  the  scandal 
of  their  li\'es,  it  will  be  of  no  avail  to  have  vainly  called 
]iim"Lord,  Lord!" 


SERMON    XXV. 


John  iv.  42. 

fFe  have  heard  him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  indeed 
the  Christj  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 

oUCH  was  the  testimony  Avhich,  in  an  early  period  of 
our  Saviour's  ministry,  the  good  people  of  the  town  of 
Sychar,  in  Samaria,  bore  to  the  truth  of  his  pretensions. 
They  make,  you  see,  a  double  profession, — first,  of  a 
previous  faith  in  a  Christ  that  was  to  come ;  then,  of  a 
faith  now  wrought  in  them  by  the  preaching  of  Jesus, 
that  Jesus  himself  was  the  person  they  expected. 

From  this  public  confession  of  the  Sycharites,  con- 
nected with  the  sentiments  which  had  been  expressed 
by  a  woman  of  the  same  town,  in  her  private  conference 
with  our  Lord  at  Jacob's  well,  these  facts,  as  I  showed 
5'ou  in  my  last  discourse,  may  readily  be  deduced :  that 
the  Samaritans  of  our  Saviour's  day,  with  advantage  of 
less  light  from  revelation,  no  less  than  the  more  in- 
structed Jews,  expected  a  Messiah, — that  they  knew,  no 
less  that  the  Jews,  that  the  time  was  come  for  his  ap- 
pearance,—that,  in  the  Messiah  who  was  now  to  come, 
they  expected  not,  like  the  mistaking  Jews,  a  Saviour 
of  the  Jewish  nation  only,  or  of  Abraham's  descendants, 
but  of  the  world, — that  they  expected  a  Saviour  of  the 
world  from  moral  evil — from  the  misery  of  sin  and 
guilt — from  the  corruptions  of  ignorance,  hypocrisj^  and 
superstition. 


(     160    ) 

Of  these  facts,  I  now  purpose  to  investigate  the  causes. 
I  am  to  inquire,  therefore,  first,  on  what  grounds  the 
previous  faith  wliich  we  find  in  the  Samaritans — their 
faith  in  a  Christ  to  come,  was  founded ;  and,  in  the  next 
place,  what  particular  evidence  might  produce  their  con- 
viction that  Jesus  was  the  person  they  expected  actually- 
arrived. 

The  first  question,  What  were  the  grounds  of  their 
previous  faith  ?  may  seem  naturally  to  divide  itself  into 
two  parts, — as  it  respects  this  previous  faith  in  that  part 
which  was  peculiar  to  the  Samaritans ;  or  in  that  more 
general  part  of  it  in  which  they  only  concurred  in  the 
universal  expectation  of  all  the  civilized  nations  of  the 
world.  The  expectation  of  an  extraordinary  person  who 
should  arise  about  this  time  in  Judea,  and  be  the  instru- 
ment of  great  improvements  in  the  manners  and  condi- 
tion of  mankind,  was  almost,  if  not  altogether  universal 
at  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  birth ;  and  had  been  gra- 
dually spreading  and  getting  strength  for  some  time  be- 
fore it.  The  fact  is  so  notorious  to  all  who  have  any 
knowledge  of  antiquity,  that  it  is  needless  to  attempt  any 
proof  of  it.  It  may  be  assumed  as  a  principle  which  even 
an  infidel  of  candour  would  be  ashamed  to  deny ;  or,  if 
any  one  would  deny  it,  I  would  decline  all  dispute  with 
such  an  adversary,  as  too  ignorant  to  receive  conviction, 
or  too  disingenuous  io  acknowledge  what  he  must  secretly 
admit.  This  general  expectation  was  common,  therefore, 
to  the  Samaritans  with  other  nations :  and,  so  far  as  it 
was  common,  it  must  be  traced  to  some  common  source; 
for  causes  can  never  be  less  general  than  their  effects. 
What  was  peculiar  to  the  Samaritans,  was  the  just  no- 
tion which  is  expressed  in  my  text,  and  in  the  private 
professions  of  the  Sycharite  woman,  of  the  nature  and 
extent  of  the  benefits  men  were  to  receive  from  the  ex- 
pected deliverer,  and  of  the  means  by  which  the  deli- 
verance was  to  be  accomplished. 


{     161     } 

The  subject,  therefore,  before  us,  in  its  first  general 
branch,  the  inquiry  into  the  grounds  of  the  previous 
faith  of  the  Samaritans,  appears,  in  this  view  of  it,  to 
be  of  vast  extent  and  comprehension :  for  to  give  the 
question  a  complete  discussion,  and  to  conduct  the  in- 
quiry  in  what  might  seem  the  most  natural  order,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  consider,  first,  the  general  grounds 
of  the  expectation  which  so  generally  prevailed ;  and  af- 
terwards, to  inquire  from  what  particular  sources  the 
Samaritans  drew  these  just  views  of  the  Messiah's  busi- 
ness which  they  have  been  found  to  entertain.  The  in- 
vestigation of  the  first  question  would  carry  us  into 
deep  disquisitions  of  theological  antiquities. 

It  is  not  much  my  practice  to  shrink  from  difficulties ; 
nor  can  I  bring  myself  to  believe  that  common  people 
are  so  incompetent  as  they  are  generally  supposed  to  be, 
to  comprehend  whatever  the  preacher  will  be  at  the  trou- 
ble to  explain.  Under  the  contrary  persuasion,  I  scru- 
ple not  to  serve  you  with  stronger  meats  than  are  gene- 
rally thought  fit  for  popular  digestion.  I  should  consult 
my  own  ease  more,  and  your  advantage  less,  if  I  could 
acquiesce  in  the  general  opinion. — For  our  present  sub- 
ject. The  condition  of  the  Samaritans  in  the  article  of 
religious  information,  was,  in  consequence  of  their  con- 
nection with  the  Jews,  so  different  from  that  of  any  other 
people,  that  we  may  reasonably  separate  the  two  ques- 
tions concerning  their  particular  faith  and  the  general  ex- 
pectation of  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  consider  them  as 
distinct  subjects ;  for  the  views  of  the  Samaritans  might 
have  been  just  what  they  were,  although  the  Gentiles  had 
been  left  (which  never  was  their  case)  in  total  darkness. 
For  the  present,  therefore,  I  shall  postpone  the  general 
question  concerning  the  grounds  of  the  general  expecta- 
tion of  the  Gentiles  (which  I  purpose,  however,  with 
God's  gracious  assistance,  at  some  future  season  to  re- 
sume; but,  for  the  present,  I  shall  postpone  it),  and. 


(     i6i     ) 

confining  myself  to  the  particular  case  of  the  Samari- 
tans, I  shall  endeavour  to  ascertain  the  particular  sources 
from  which  they  drew  their  information  that  the  Messiah 
was  to  come  for  the  general  advantage  of  mankind,  and 
that  he  was  to  come  in  the  character  of  a  public  teacher 
of  the  true  religion.  In  the  first  circumstance,  their  ex- 
pectations diifered  from  those  of  the  Jews,  and,  in  the 
second,  from  those  of  the  whole  Gentile  world.  Now, 
since  these  notions,  which  were  peculiar  to  themselves, 
could  not  be  formed  on  any  \'ague  traditions  which  were 
current  among  any  other  people,  and  since  they  have 
been  remarkably  justified  by  the  event  of  things,  it  is 
most  reasonable  to  suppose  that  they  were  drawn  imme- 
diately from  the  word  of  God — from  prophecies  of  the 
Old  Testament,  which  the  Samaritans  interpreted  with 
more  discernment  than  the  Jews,  because  thc}^  were  free 
from  the  prejudices  which  the  Jews  entertained  in  favour 
of  their  own  nation, — perhaps  for  this  reason,  that  being 
secretly  conscious  of  their  spurious  original,  however 
they  might  boast  their  descent  from  Abraham,  they  were 
unvi'illing  to  admit  those  exclusive  claims  of  his  family 
for  which  the  Jews  so  zealously  contended,  and  on  which 
their  fatal  prejudices  were  founded.  But  if  the  notions 
of  the  Samaritans  were  drawn  immediately  from  the  Old 
Testament,  it  is  evident  they  are  to  be  sought  in  those 
parts  of  it  which  the  Samaritans  admitted.  The  Sa- 
maritans admitted  no  part  of  the  sacred  writings  of  the 
Jews  but  the  five  books  of  Moses.  In  the  books  of 
Moses,  therefore,  we  are  to  look  for  such  prophecies  of 
the  Messiah  as  might  be  a  sufficient  foundation  of  tht- 
faith  of  the  Samaritans — of  that  pure  faith  which  was 
free  from  the  errors  of  the  Jews,  and  far  more  particular 
than  the  general  expectation  of  the  Gentiles.  In  the 
books  of  JNloses  we  must  look  for  prophecies  of  the 
Messiah,  declaring  the  general  extent  of  the  deliverance 
he  was  to  lu'complish,  and  describing  liim  in  the  cha- 


(    163    ) 

meter  of  a  religious  teacher:  and  these  prophecies  must 
be  clear  and  explicit, — not  conveyed  in  dark  images  and 
ambiguous  allusions,  but  in  terms  that  might  be  open  to 
popular  apprehension  before  their  accomplishment ;  for 
if  no  such  prophecies  should  be  found  in  the  books  of 
Moses,  the  faith  of  the  Samaritans  will  be  a  fact  for 
which  it  will  be  impossible  to  account. 

For  prophecies  describing  the  Messiah  as  the  general 
benefactor  of  mankind,  it  is  no  difficult  task  to  find  them 
in  the  books  of  Moses.  The  greater  difficulty,  perhaps, 
would  be  to  find  any  prophecy  of  him,  of  that  high  an- 
tiquity, in  which  the  extent  of  the  blessings  that  should 
be  the  consequence  of  his  appearance  is  not  expressly- 
signified.  This  circumstance  is  clearly  implied  in  the 
earliest  revelations ;  and  it  is  remarkable  that  it  is  always 
mentioned  in  the  most  explicit  terms,  in  the  promises 
made  to  the  ancestors  of  the  Jewish  nation.  A  general 
restoration  of  mankind  from  the  ruin  of  the  fall  was 
plainly  implied  in  the  original  curse  upon  the  serpent; 
for  what  would  have  been  the  great  victory  of  the  wo- 
man's seed,  if  the  greater  part  of  Eve's  posterity  were 
doomed  to  continue  in  the  power  of  the  common  enemy? 
—if,  for  one  family  to  be  brought  by  Christ  within  the 
possibility  of  salvation,  two  hundred  and  ninety-seven 
millions  were  to  remain  the  neglected  victims  of  the  de- 
vil's malice  ? — which,  upon  a  very  moderate  computa- 
tion, was  the  case,  if  Jacob's  was  the  single  family  that 
was  to  have  an  interest  in  Christ's  redemption.  After 
the  flood,  when  Jc^hovah  was  described  as  the  God  of 
Shem,  it  was  declared  that  Japliet  was  to  find  a  shelter  in 
Shem's  tabernacle.  Nor  can  I  perceive  that  the  curse  de- 
nounced on  Canaan's  degenerate  posterity  amounted  to 
an  absolute  exclusion  of  his  descendants  from  the  know- 
ledge and  the  worship  of  Shem's  God :  the  contrary,  I 
think,  is  mercifully  implied  in  the  terms  of  the  curse, 
though  I  confess  very  darkly.  When  it  was  first  inti- 
4.6 


(     164    ) 

mated  to  Abraliani  that  the  Messiah  was  to  ai-ise  among 
his  descendants,  it  was  at  the  same  time  declared  that 
the  blessing  was  to  reach  to  all  the  families  of  the  earth ; 
and  this  declaration  was  constandy  repeated  upon  every 
renewal  of  the  glorious  promise  to  Isaac  and  to  Jacob :  so 
that  the  whole  tenor  of  patriarchal  prophecy  attests  the 
universal  extent  of  the  Messiah's  blessings;  and  the 
thing  is  so  very  clear,  that  it  is  unnecessary  to  be  more 
particular  in  the  proof  of  it. 

Again,  for  the  time  of  his  appearance.  This  was 
marked  in  Jacob's  dying  prophecy  by  a  sign  which  the 
Samaritans  of  our  Saviour's  day  could  not  but  discern. 
The  dissolution  of  a  considerable  state  hath,  like  all 
events,  its  regular  and  certain  causes,  which  work  the 
ultimate  effect  by  a  slow  and  gradual  progress.  The  ca- 
tastrophe is  ever  preceded  by  public  disorders,  of  which 
human  sagacity  easily  forecasts  the  event.  To  the  Sa- 
maritans of  our  Saviour's  day,  living  in  the  heart  of  the 
Jewish  territory,  it  must  have  been  very  perceptible  that 
the  sceptre  was  falling  from  the  hand  of  Judah,  when  the 
Jewish  polity  was  actually  within  half  a  century  of  its 
dissolution ; — and  when  the  sceptre  should  depart  from 
Judah,  then,  according  to  the  holy  patriarch's  prediction, 
the  Shiloh  was  to  come. 

Of  the  extent,  therefore,  of  the  Messiah's  blessings, 
and  of  the  time  of  his  appearance,  the  Samaritans  might 
find  clear  information  in  the  books  of  Moses.  Upon 
these  points  the  earliest  prophecies  were  so  explicit,  that 
no  higher  qualification  could  be  requisite  to  comprehend 
their  general  meaning,  than  a  freedom  of  the  mind  from 
prejudices  in  favour  of  the  pretensions  of  the  Jewish 
nation, — prejudices  which  the  Samaritans,  who  hated  the 
Jews,  were  not  likely  to  entertain. 

It  may  be  somewhat  more  difficult  to  produce  the  par- 
ticular predictions  in  which  they  found  the  Messiah  de- 
scribed as  a  religious  teacher.    That  predictions  to  this 


(     165     ) 

purpose  do  exist  in  the  books  of  Moses,  ia  terms  which 
were  clearly  understood  by  the  ancient  Samaritans,  can- 
not reasonably  be  doubted ;  because  we  find  this  notion 
of  the  Messiah  in  the  previous  faith  of  the  Samaritans, 
of  which  the  books  of  Moses  were  the  sole  foundation. 
If  these  prophecies  are  now  not  easy  to  be  found,  the 
whole  difficulty  must  arise  from  the  obscurity  which 
time  hath  brought,  through  various  causes,  upon  parti- 
cular passages  of  these  very  ancient  writings,  which  ori- 
ginally were  perspicuous. 

It  were,  perhaps,  not  difficult  to  prove,  that  the  pro- 
mise which  accompanied  the  delivery  of  the  law  at  Sinai 
— the  promise  of  a  prophet  to  be  raised  up  among  the 
Israelites,  who  should  resemble  Moses — had  the  Mes- 
siah for  its  ultimate  object :  and  from  the  appeal  which 
is  repeatedly  made  to  it  by  the  first  preachers  of  Chris- 
tianit}'^, — from  the  terms  in  which  the  inquiries  of  the 
Pharisees  were  propounded  to  the  Baptist, — from  the 
sentiments  which  the  Jewish  multitude  were  accustom- 
ed to  express  upon  occasion  of  several  of  our  Saviour's 
miracles,  it  is  very  evident,  that,  in  the  age  of  our 
Lord  and  his  apostles,  the  Messiah  was  universally 
looked  for  by  the  Jewish  nation,  as  the  person  in 
whom  that  promise  w^as  to  receive  its  final  and  pai'ti- 
cular  completion.  In  the  office  of  a  prophet,  and  more 
particularly  in  the  resemblance  of  Moses,  the  character 
of  a  teacher  is  indeed  included ;  but  of  a  national  teacher 
of  the  Jews  only,  not  of  an  universal  instructor  of  man- 
kind. This  promise,  therefore,  could  hardly  be  the 
foundation  of  the  expectation  which  the  Samaritans  en- 
tertained of  a  public  teacher  who  was  to  rescue  the 
whole  world  from  moral  evil,  by  instructing  all  men  in 
the  true  religion :  for,  in  the  letter  of  the  prophecy,  no 
such  character  appears ;  nor  is  it  probable,  that  before 
the  merciful  scheme  of  providence  was  developed  and 
interpreted  by  the  appearance  of  our  Saviour  and  the 


(     166    ) 

promulgation  of  the  gospel,  men  would  be  so  quick- 
sighted  in  the  interpretation  of  dark  figures  and  distant 
allusions,  as  to  descry  the  character  of  an  universal 
teacher  under  the  image  of  a  prophet  of  the  Israelites. 
The  passages,  therefore,  on  which  the  Samaritans  built 
their  hope,  we  have  yet  to  seek. 

One  passage  which,  if  I  take  its  meaning  right,  con- 
tains an  illustrious  prophecy  to  our  purpose,  occurs 
in  the  book  of  Deuteronomy.  It  is  the  beginning  of 
that  prophetic  song  in  which  Moses,  just  before  his 
death,  describes  the  future  fortunes  of  the  twelve  tribes 
of  Israel.  This  song  is  contained  in  the  thirty-third 
chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  under  the  title  of  "  The  bles- 
sing wherewith  Moses  the  man  of  God,  at  the  point  of 
death,  blessed  the  children  of  Israel."  The  particular 
passage  of  which  I  speak,  lies  in  the  second,  third, 
fourth,  and  fifth  verses.  From  the  quick  transitions 
that  are  used  in  it  from  narrative  to  ejaculation,  and 
from  ejaculation  again  to  narrative — and  from  the  mix- 
ture of  allusion  to  past  facts  and  future  events — it  has 
much  of  that  natural  difficulty  which  is  in  some  de- 
gree inseparable  from  this  style  of  composition:  and 
the  natural  difficulty  of  the  passage  seems  considerably 
heightened  by  the  errors  of  transcribers ;  insomuch,  that 
the  ablest  critics  seem  to  have  despaired  of  reducing  the 
original  text  to  any  grammatical  propriety,  or  of  drawing 
from  it  any  consistent  meaning,  without  much  liberty  of 
conjectural  emendation.  If  the  interpretation  which  I 
shall  venture  to  propose  should  seem  new,  it  will  never- 
theless be  thought  a  circumstance  somewhat  in  its  fa- 
vour, that,  at  the  same  time  that  it  brings  the  passage  to 
a  more  interesting  and  more  connected  sense  than  any 
other  exposition — a  sense  too  the  most  pertinent  to  the 
occasion — it  requires  fewer  alterations  of  the  present 
text  than  are  necessary  in  any  exposition  that  hath  been 
hitherto  attempted.     Of  forty-two  words,  of  Avhich  the 


(    167    ) 

whole  passage  is  composed,  six  only  undergo  slight  al- 
terations, and  a  seventh  is  omitted.  The  six  alterations 
have  the  sanction  of  antiquity, — two  from  the  Samaritan 
copy  of  the  original  text,  three  from  the  Greek  transla- 
tion of  the  seventy,  and  the  sixth  from  the  Syro-Arabic- 
and  Chaldee  versions.  In  the  omission  of  the  seventh 
word,  which  is  the  name  of  Moses  in  the  fourth  verse, 
I  have  the  consent  of  all  judicious  critics,  who  have 
found  the  omission  necessary  in  all  possible  interpreta- 
tions of  the  passage.  In  this  sacred  poem,  the  particu- 
lar benedictions  of  the  several  tribes  are  naturally  pre- 
faced with  a  thankful  commemoration  of  that  which  was 
the  great  and  general  blessing  of  the  whole  nation — the 
revelation  which  they  enjoyed,  and  the  singular  privilege 
of  a  polity  and  a  law  of  divine  institution.  The  men- 
tion of  these  national  prerogatives  is  mixed  with  in- 
timations of  God's  general  tenderness  for  the  whole  hu- 
man race,  with  which  the  particular  promises  to  the 
Jews,  as  hath  been  before  observed,  were  seldom  unac- 
companied in  the  earlier  prophecies ;  and,  as  I  under- 
stand the  passage,  a  prediction  of  the  final  conversion  of 
the  Jews  to  Christ,  after  a  previous  adoption  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, finishes  the  lofty  proem  of  the  inspired  song.  Such, 
as  I  conceive  it,  is  the  general  scope  and  purport  of  the 
passage ;  of  every  part  of  which,  with  the  few  alterations 
I  have  mentioned,  I  shall  now  give  you  the  literal  trans- 
lation,— or,  where  that  cannot  be  done  with  perspicuity 
in  the  English  language,  the  exact  meaning,  accompa- 
nied with  so  much  of  paraphrase  and  remark  as  may  be 
necessary  to  illustrate  the  connection,  and  to  justify  my 
version  in  its  principal  peculiarities. 

The  prophet  enters  upon  his  subject  with  poetical  al- 
lusions to  the  most  striking  circumstances  of  the  glori- 
ous scene  which  accompanied  the  promulgation  of  the 
law. 

"  Jehovah  came  from  Sinai ; 


(    168    ) 

'*  His  uprising  was  from  Seir : 

"  He  displayed  his  glory  from  mount  Paraii, 

"  And  from  the  midst  of  the  myriads  came  forth  the 
Holy  One,* — 

"  On  his  right  hand  streams  of  fire." 
Seir  and  Paran  were  places  in  the  wilderness  where  the 
divine  glory  had  been  sensibly  displayed.  The  myriads, 
from  which  the  Holy  One  is  described  as  coming  forth, 
were  the  myriads  of  attendant  angels  whose  descent  per- 
haps was  visible  before  the  blaze  of  light  burst  forth 
which  was  the  well  known  signal  of  the  personal  pre- 
sence of  the  Holy  One, — that  High  and  Holy  One  whose 
transcendant  perfections  and  original  existence  separate 
him  by  an  infinite  interval  even  from  the  highest  orders 
of  the  angelic  nature.  The  streams  of  fire  on  his  right, 
are  the  incessant  flashes  of  lightning  which  struck  the 
Avhole  assembly  with  dismay. 

The  description  being  brought  to  this  point,  the  thing 
next  in  order  to  be  mentioned  should  be  the  utterance 
of  the  decalogue ;  but  here  the  prophet  interrupts  his 
narrative,  to  commemorate  God's  parental  care  of  all 
mankind,  in  these  pathetic  ejaculations : 

"  O  loving  Father  of  the  peoples!" 

"  Of  the  peoples," — that  is,  of  all  the  different  nations 
of  the  world;  for  that  is  the  force  of  "  peoples"  iij  the 
plural. 

"  O  loving  Father  of  the  peoples! 

"  All  the  saints  are  in  thy  hand; 

"  They  are  seated  at  thy  feet, 

"  And  have  received  of  thy  doctrine." 
"  All  the  saints — good  men  of  all  families  and  of  all 
countries  are  under  thy  protection."    In  our  English 
Bibles  we  read  "  all  his  saints."    It  is  upon  the  autho- 


*  "  The  Holy  One."    The  same  word  is  used  for  God,  in  the  parallel  text  rj 
Habakkuk.— £(/iifor. 


(     169    ) 

rity  of  the  Seventy  that  I  throw  away  the  pronoun,  which 
not  being  expressed  in  their  translation,  had  probably 
no  place  in  their  copies  of  the  original ;  and  indeed  its 
whole  effect  is  but  to  destroy  the  generality  of  the  ex- 
pression, on  which  the  spirit  of  the  sentiment  entirely 
depends.  "  All  the  saints  are  seated  at  thy  feet,  and 
have  partaken  of  thy  doctrine."  In  these  words,  you 
will  observe,  the  great  Being  who  was  styled  the  loving 
Father  of  the  peoples  is  addressed  in  the  specific  charac- 
ter of  a  teacher;  for  the  expression  of  sitting  at  his  feet 
describes  the  attitude  of  scholars  listening  to  the  lessons 
of  a  master.  "  And  they  have  received  of  thy  doctrine, 
or  of  thy  instruction."  "  They  have  received — "  In 
the  public  translation,  the  expression  is  in  future  time, 
— "  They  shall  receive;"  and,  thus  rendered,  the  pas- 
sage stands  as  a  promise  of  the  instruction  of  mankind 
by  future  revelations :  but  we  have  the  authority  of  the 
Seventy  to  understand  the  original  expression  of  time 
past.  The  promise  of  future  instruction  comes  in  an- 
other place :  the  allusion  here  is  to  past  mercies,  as  an 
evidence  of  the  universality  of  God's  parental  care  of  all 
mankind,  in  which  the  prophet  professes  his  belief;  and 
of  this  the  past  instances  of  general  mercy,  manifested 
in  the  revelations  which  had  been  granted  to  good  men 
in  the  patriarchal  ages,  long  before  the  institution  of  the 
Mosaic  covenant,  furnished  a  more  pregnant  proof  than 
distant  promises.  After  these  ejaculations,  the  prophet 
resumes  his  narrative,  and  proceeds  to  mention  the  pro- 
mulgation of  the  law ;  which,  prefaced  as  it  is  with  these 
allusions  to  the  world's  old  experience  of  its  Maker's 
comprehensive  love,  seems  rather  alleged  as  a  recent 
instance  of  the  general  providence,  than  as  an  argument 
of  any  arbitrary  partial  fondness  for  that  particular  race 
in  which  the  theocracy  was  erected. 

"  To  us  he  prescribed  a  law."    "  He,"  the  Holy  One 
who  came  forth  from  the  midst  of  the  myriads ;  for  the 


(    170    ) 

"intervening  ejaculations  stand  in  parentheses,  and  this  line 
is  to  be  taken  in  connection  v\  ith  the  two  last  of  the  initial 
stanza. 

"  To  us  he  prescribed  a  law. 

"  Jacob  is  the  inheritance  of  the  preacher : 

*'  He  shall  be  king  in  Jeshurun, 

"  When  the  chiefs  of  the  people  shall  gathet"  them- 
selves together 

"  In  union  with  the  tribes  of  Israel." 
"  Jacob  is  the  inheritance  of  the  preacher."  This  sen- 
tence renders  the  reason  of  the  institution  of  the  law, — 
that  the  finnily  of  Jacob,  for  the  general  good  of  man- 
kind, was  chosen  to  be  the  inheritance  or  peculiar  por- 
tion of  the  preacher.  They  were  appointed  to  be  for 
many  ages  the  immediate  objects  of  Divine  instruction, 
and  the  depositaries  of  the  sacred  oracles.  In  this  sense 
Jacob  was  the  inheritance  of  "  the  preacher," — of  that 
person  who  hath  been  in  all  ages,  though  in  different 
ways  at  different  seasons,  the  dispenser  of  the  light  of 
revelation.  Of  this  preacher  Jacob  is  here  called  the  in- 
heritance, in  the  same  sense  in  which  the  Jewish  nation 
is  called  "  his  own". in  the  first  chapter  of  St.  John's 
gospel.  The  word  which  I  have  rendered  by  "  the 
preacher"  hath  been  generally  taken  in  this  place  in  the 
sense  of  "  congregation,"  which  gives  the  whole  passage 
a  very  different  meaning :  but  the  sense  in  which  I  take 
it,  of  "  the  preacher,"  is  the  usual  signification  of  the 
word.  The  use  of  it  in  the  sense  of  "  congregation"  is 
unexampled  in  the  sacred  vvritiags,  unless  perhaps  in 
this  passage,  in  another  in  the  book  of  Genesis,  and  a 
third  in  the  book  of  Nehemiah.  The  passage  of  the 
book  of  Genesis  will  be  particularly  considered  in  the 
prosecution  of  our  subject.  The  signification  of  the 
word  in  question  is  not  less  ambiguous  in  that  place 
than  it  is  here ;  and  the  sense  of  "  the  preacher"  will 
equally  suit  tlic  context.    In  Nehemiah,   tlie  sense  is 


(    171    ) 

bomewhat  doubtful ;  and,  were  it  certain,  the  style  of 
Nehemiah  is  not  the  best  standard  for  the  interpretation 
of  Moses.     The  interval  between  the  two  writers  was 
long ;  and  the  changes  and  corruptions  which  the  He- 
brew language  underwent  in  the  captivity  of  the  Jewish 
nation  were  great  and  various.    The  book  of  Ecclesi- 
astes  was  of  an  earlier  and  a  purer  age ;  and  throughout 
that  book,  the  word,  by  the  consent  of  all  interpreters, 
signifies  "  the  preacher."    But  the  particular  advantage 
of  taking  the  word  here  in  its  usual  and  proper  signifi- 
cation, is  the  remarkable  perspicuity  which  it  gives  to 
the  ensuing  distich, — clearly  demonstrating  the  person 
of  whom  it  is  predicated  that  he  shall  Ke  a  king ;  which 
person  it  will  be  no  easy  matter  to  ascertain,  if,  by  adopt- 
ing any  other  meaning  of  this  word,  we  lose  the  descrip- 
tion of  him  which  this  line  affords.    "  He  shall  be  king." 
The  preacher,   whose  inheritance   is   Jacob,    shall  be 
king.     Our  public 'translation  has  it — "  He  was  king;" 
making  the  sentence  an  assertion  of  something  past,  in-, 
stead  of  a  prediction.     And  this  assertion  some  under- 
stand of  Moses,  who  was  no  king,  nor  ever  bore  the 
title, — and  some,  of  God,  of  whom  it  were  improper 
to  say  that  he  was  what  he  ever  is,  king  in  Jeshurun. 
Witli  the  authority  of  the  Seventy,   therefore,  on  my 
side,  I  throw  away  the  letter  which  gives  the  verb  the 
preterite  form,  and  understand  it  of  tinie  future.    "  He," 
the  preacher,  "  shall  be  king  in  Jeshurun."    The  word 
"  Jeshurun"  is  no  patronymic  of  the  Jewish  nation ;  but, 
by  the  natural  force  of  it,  seems  rather  to  denote  the 
whole  body  of  the  justified,  in  all  ages  Of  the  world,  and 
under  all  dispensations :  and  it  is  to  be  taken  with  more 
or  less  restriction  of  its  general  meaning,  according  to 
the  particular  times  which  may  be  the  subject  of  dis- 
course.    It  is  sometin^ies  descriptive  of  the  Jews,  not  as 
the  natural  descendants  of  Jacob  or  of  Abraham,  but  in 
their  spiritual  character    of  the  justified,    while  they 
'4.7 


/  (    172    ) 

formed  the  wliole  of  the  acknowledged  church :  but,  in 
prophecies  which  respect  the  adoption  of  the  Gentiles, 
it  denotes  the  whole  body  of  the  faithful  gathered  from 
the  four  winds  of  heaven.  In  this  Jeshurun  the  mo- 
narchy of  God  was  from  the  beginning,  is  without  inter- 
ruption, and  shall  be  without  end:  but  the  Messiafi's 
kingdom  commenced  upon  our  Lord's  ascension;  and 
its  establishment  will  be  then  complete,  when  the  re- 
bellious Jews  shall  acknowledge  him.  This  kingdom  I 
conceive  to  be  here  predicted,  in  the  assertion  that  the 
preacher  shall  be  king  in  that  Jeshurun  which  shall  here- 
after be  composed  of  Jews  and  Gentiles,  living  in  friend- 
ship and  alliance,  professing  the  same  faith,  and  exercis- 
ing the  same  worship. 

Thus  it  appears,  that  in  this  prophecy  of  Moses,  if  we 
have  rightly  divined  its  meaning,  the  Messiah  is  expli- 
citly described  under  the  character  of  a  preacher,  in 
whose  spiritual  kingdom  Jews  and  Gentiles  shall  be 
united  as  the  subjects  of  a  common  Lord.  This  inter- 
pretation of  this  remarkable  passage  will  receive,  I  think, 
considerable  confirmation,  from  the  elucidation  of  an- 
other prophecy  of  an  earlier  age,  in  which  Christ's  cha- 
racter of  a  general  teacher,  or  his  business  at  least  of 
teaching  all  the  world,  is  described  in  terms  less  liable 
to  ambiguity  of  interpretation.  And  this  I  shall  consider 
in  my  next  discourse. 


SERMON    XXVi. 


John  lv.  42. 


We  have  heard  him  ourselvesy  and  know  that  this  is  indeed 
the  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 


This  fourth  chapter  of  St.  John's  gospel  cohtains  a 
narrative  of  our  Saviour's  visit  to  the  town  of  Sychar  in 
Samaria ;  and  in  the  text  we  have  the  testimony  which 
was  publicly  borne  by  the  people  of  the  place  to  the 
truth  of  liis  pretensions,      i 

Extraordinary  as  the  fact  may  seem,  this  portion  of 
the  evangelical  history  affords  the  most  unquestionable 
documents  of  the  truth  of  it, — that  the  Samaritans  of 
our  Saviour's  day  not  only  believed  in  a  Christ  who  was 
to  come,  but  had  truer  notions  than  the  Jews  their  con- 
temporaries, of  the  nature  and  extent  of  the  salvation  to 
be  expected  from  him,  and  of  the  means  by  which  it 
should  be  accomplished:  the  nature  of  the  salvation, 
spiritual — the  extent,  universal — -the  means,  teaching. 
They  expected  a  deliverance  of  the  whole  world  from 
moral  evil,  by  a  person  who  should  appear  in  the  cha- 
racter of  a  universal  teacher  of  the  true  religion. 

Of'these  just  views  of  the  Samaritans,  the  books  of 
Moses,  which  were  the  only  part  of  the  Jewish  scrip- 
tures which  the  Samaritans  received,  were  the  only  pos- 
sible  foundation.  The  conclusion  therefore  seems  in- 
fallible, that  prophecies  do  actually  exist  in  some  part 
of  the  books  of  Moses,  which  describe  the  Messiah  ar. 


(    174    ) 

ii  general  teacher  of  the  true  religion,  and  express  this 
character  in  terms  which  were  clearly  understood  by  the 
ancient  Samaritans.  If  these  prophecies  are  now  not 
easy  to  be  found,  the  difficulty  must  arise  from  the  ob- 
scurity which  time  hath  brought  upon  particular  pas- 
sages of  those  very  ancient  writings,  which  originally 
were  perspicuous.  If,  by  the  assistance  of  Him  who 
hath  promised  to  be  ever  with  us,  we  should  be  enabled 
to  succeed  in  our  attempt  to  do  the  injuries  of  time  in 
some  degree  away,  and  to  restore  defaced  prophecies  of 
this  great  importance  to  their  original  evidence,  we  trust 
we  shall  have  rendered  some  part  of  the  service  which 
we  owe  to  that  great  cause  to  the  support  of  which  our 
talents  and  our  studies  stand  solemnly  devoted. 

In  my  last  discourse,  I  produced  a  passage  from,  the 
book  of  Deuteronomy,  which,  in  whatever  obscurity  it 
may  have  lain  for  several  ages,  with  fewer  and  slighter 
emendations  than  are  requi  He  to  bring  it  to  any  other 
consistent  meaning,  admits  an  interpretation  which  makes 
it  an  illustrious  prophecy  to  our  purpose.  You  will  re- 
collect, that  the  passage  in  the  proem  of  that  prophetic 
song  in  which  Moses,  just  before  his  death,  described 
the  fortunes  of  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel.  My  transla- 
tion, which  it  may  be  useful  to  repeat,  that  the  agree- 
ment and  resemblance  between  this  prophecy  and  some 
others  which  I  now  purpose  to  consider  may  be  the 
more  readily  perceived, — my  translation  of  the  second 
and  three  following  verses  of  the  thirty-third  chapter  of 
Deuteronomy,  is  in  these  words : 

"  Jehovah  came  from  Sinai ; 

"  His  uprising  was  from  Seir: 

"  He  displayed  his  glory  from  mount  Pai*an, 

''  And  from  the  midst  of  the  myriads  came  forth  the 
Holy  One,— 

"  On  his  right  hand  streams  of  fire. 

'^  O  loving  Father  of  the  peoples  1 


(     175    ) 

'*  All  the  saints  are  in  thy  hand ; 

"  They  are  seated  at  thy  feet, 

"  And  have  received  of  thy  doctrine. 

*'  To  us  he  (the  Holy  One)  prescribed  a  law. 

^'  Jacob  is  the  inheritance  of  the  preacher: 

"  He  (the  preacher)  shall  be  king  in  Jeshurun, 

*'  When  the  chiefs  of  the  peoples  gather  themselves 
together 

^^  In  union  with  the  tribes  of  Israel." 

The  interpretation  of  this  remarkable  passage  will  re- 
iceive  great  confirmation  from  the  elucidation  of  another 
prophecy,  of  an  earlier  age,  which  I  now  take  in  hand. 
The  examination  of  this  prophecy  will  consist  of  two 
parts.  The  first  point  will  be,  to  ascertain  its  meaning, 
as  it  stands  in  our  modern  copies  of  the  Hebrew  text, 
without  any  alteration ;  and  the  second,  to.  consider  an 
emendation  suggested  by  the  old  versions,  which,  with- 
out altering  the  sense,  considerably  improves  the  perspi- 
cuity and  heightens  the  spirit  of  the  expression. 

When  the  patriarch  Jacob  was  setting  out  for  Padan- 
aram,  to  form  an  alliance  by  marriage,  according  to  the 
customs  of  those  early  times,  with  the  collateral  branch 
of  his  mother's  family,  his  father  Isaac's  parting  blessing 
was  to  this  effect :  "  God  Almighty  bless  thee,  and  make 
thee  fruitful,  and  multiply  thee ;  and  thou  shalt  be  a 
multitude  of  peoples^  This  blessing  was  repeated,  it 
seems,  to  the  patriarch,  in  his  dream  at  Luz ;  for  though 
this  circumstance  is  not  mentioned  by  Moses  in  its  pro- 
per place,  in  his  narrative  of  that  extraordinary  dream, 
in  the  twenty-eighth  chapter  of  Genesis,  it  is,  however, 
apparent,  by  the  words  which  in  the  Ibrty-eighth  chapter 
he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Jacob  upon  his  death-bed. 
"  God  Almighty  appeared  unto  me  at  Luz,  in  the  land 
<?f  Canaan,  and  blessed  me,  and  said  unto  me — Behold 
I  will  make  thee  fruitful,  and  multiply  thee;  and  I  will 
make  of  thee  a  mAiltitude  of  peoples."    Yoii  will  ob- 


(     176    } 

serve,  that  it  is  not  without  a  special  reason  that  1 
choose  in  these  passages  to  sacrifice  the  propriety  of  my 
English  expression  to  an  exact  adherence  to  the  letter 
of  the  Hebrew  text,  in  the  use  of  the  word  "  peoples" 
in  the  plural.  In  the  original  language  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, the  word  "  people"  in  the  singular  always  sig- 
nifies some  single  nation,  and,  for  the  most  part,  the 
individual  nation  of  the  Jews ;  the  plural  word  "  peo- 
ples" signifies  many  nations,  either  jews  and  Gentiles 
promiscuously,  or  the  various  nations  of  the  Gentiles, 
as  distinguished  from  the  Jews.  Our  translators,  in  this 
instance  over- studious  of  the  purity  of  their  English 
style,  have  dropped  this  important  distinction  through- 
out the  whole  of  the  Old  Testament;  and  thus  the 
force  and  spirit  of  the  original,  wherever  it  depends 
upon  this  distinction,  which  is  the  case  in  many  pro- 
phetic texts,  is  unhappily  lost  in  our  public  translation. 
But,  to  return. 

This  same  blessing  was  again  repeated  upon  the  pa- 
triarch's return  from  Padan-aram,  when  God  appeared 
to  him,  and  said — "  I  am  God  Almighty.  Be  fruitful 
and  multiply.  A  nation  and  a  company  of  nations  shall 
be  of  thee."  It  is  the  same  word  in  the  original  which 
is  rendered  in  our  English  Bibles  in  this  third  benedic- 
tion, by  a  "  company,"  and  in  the  two  former  passages 
by  a  "  multitude :"  but  it  is  of  great  importance  to  ob- 
serve, that  in  the  promise  made  to  Abraham  that  he 
should  be  a  father  "  of  many  nations,"  or,  according  to 
the  margin,  "  of  a  multitude  of  nations,"  a  very  differ- 
ent word  is  used.  Were  the  marginal  interpretation 
adopted,  the  terms  of  this  promise  to  Abraham,  and  of 
the  blessings  pronounced  upon  Jacob  upon  three  different 
occasions,  in  our  English  Bibles  would  be  very  mucli 
tlie  same:  whereas  in  the  original  they  are  essentially 
different;  and  the  difference  lies  in  the  principal  word, 
in  the  word  which  ejcprcsses  the  matter  of  the  promise. 


{    177    ) 

Now,  as  a  sameness  of  the  terms,  if  it  really  existed, 
would  be  an  argument  for  assigning  one  and  the  same 
meaning  to  the  promises,  so  a  regular  variation  of  the 
terms  in  which  the  promises  to  Abraham  and  to  his 
grandson  were  conveyed,  when  the  promise  was  repeated 
twice  to  Abraham — to  Jacob  three  times,  creates  a  strong 
presumption  that  the  promises  to  these  different  persons, 
in  which  so  striking  a  difference  of  the  terms  was  so 
constantly  observed,  had  different  objects :  and  the  event 
of  things  confirms  the  suspicion.  Of  Abraham,  who 
was  the  common  ancestor  of  the  Israelites,  the  Arabians, 
the  Idumjeans,  and  many  other  nations  of  the  East,  it 
might  be  said  with  truth,  in  the  literal  sense  of  the 
words,  "  that  he  should  be  the  father  of  many  nations." 
But,  of  Jacob,  whose  whole  posterity  was  contained  in 
the  single  nation  of  the  Jews,  I  cannot  see  with  what 
propriety  it  could  be  said  that  "  a  company  of  nations 
should  come  out  of  him^^''  or  that  he  should  be  "  made 
a  multitude  of  peoples."  To  say  that  nations  or  peoples 
stand  only  for  tribes,  is  an  ill-devised  subterfuge  of 
Jewish  expositors :  it  is  founded  upon  a  principle  which 
will  ever  mislead,  because  it  is  in  itself  false  (though, 
by  the  way,  it  is  the  favourite  assumption  of  our  mo- 
dern Socinians,  and  is  the  foundation  of  their  whole 
system),  that  the  prophetic  style  describes  little  things 
by  gigantic  images.  Even  in  the  spiritual  sense,  the 
expression  that  Jacob  should  be  a  multitude  of  peoples, 
or  that  a  company  of  nations  should  come  out  of  him, 
would  be  improper  and  unprophetic;  for  the  various 
races  of  men,  who,  by  embracing  the  faith  of  Christ, 
are  become  in  a  spiritual  sense  the  children  of  Abraham 
and  of  Jacob,  are  in  the  same  spiritual  sense,  by  virtue 
of  their  adoption  into  the  blessed  family,  become  parts 
of  the  one  nation  of  the  spiritual  Israel,  and  are  no  longer 
to  be  called  in  any  spiritual  sense  a  multitude  or  a  com- 
pany of  peoples  or  of  nations.    It  is  a  just  observation 


(    178    } 

of  the  learned  Calvin,  that  a  prophecy  which  should 
have  described  the  Christian  community  under  the 
image  of  a  variety  of  nations,  would  have  been  no  bles- 
sing, but  a  curse ;  since,  according  to  the  regular  signi- 
fication of  the  prophetic  images,  which  have  their  regu- 
lar and  determined  significations  no  less  than  the  words 
of  common  speech,  such  a  prophecy  would  have  been 
predictive  of  factions  and  schisms,  and  would  have 
threatened  a  dissolution  of  that  unity  on  which  the  wel- 
fare of  the  church  depends.  The  word  which,  in  these 
promises  to  Jacob,  is  rendered  by  "  multitude"  or 
"  company"  in  our  English  Bibles,  takes  its  origin  and 
its  meaning  from  a  root,  which  properly  signifies  "  to 
assemble,"  or  to  "  call  an  assembly :"  and  the  force  of 
it  in  these  passages  seems  more  properly  expressed  in 
the  Greek  translation  of  the  Seventy  than  by  any  later 
interpreter.  Their  translation  is  to  this  effect:  In  the 
two  first  places,  "  I  will  make  thee  for  the  gathering  to- 
gether of  nations;"  in  the  third  place,  "  the  gathering 
together  of  nations  shall  be  from  thee ;" — and  the  ga- 
thering together  which  is  intended,  can  be  no  other  than 
the  gathering  of  all  nations  into  one  in  Christ.  But,  if  T 
mistake  not,  this  great  event  is  much  more  expressly 
mentioned  in  these  passages  than  it  appears  to  be  even 
in  the  version  of  the  Seventy ;  the  Messiah  being  per- 
sonally mentioned  under  the  character  of  the  ''  Gatherer 
of  the  nations;"  for  the  word  which  the  Seventy  render 
by  "  the  gathering  together,"  and  the  English  translators 
by  "  a  multitude  of  company,"  may  by  its  derivatioM 
either  signify  the  persons  of  which  an  assembly  is  com- 
posed, in  which  sense  our  EngHsh  translators  understood 
it, — or  the  act  of  bringing  them  together,  which  is  the 
sense  the  Seventy  express ;  or  it  may  bear  a  tliird  sense, 
which  perhaps  is  of  all  the  most  pertinent  in  the  passages 
in  question :  it  miiy  stand  for  the  person  by  whose  au- 
thority the  assembly  is  con^•ened.    Any  one  of  these 


(    179    ) 

three  senses,  the  word,  for  its  natural  force,  may  bear 
indifferentlj^;  and  in  which  of  the  three  it  is  in  any  par- 
ticular passage  to  be  taken,  can  only  be  determined  by 
the  occasion  upon  which  it  is  introduced,  by  what  is  said 
of  it,  and  by  the  words  widi  which  it  is  immediately 
connected.  In  the  passages  in  question,  the  first  sense 
seems  absolutely  excluded  by  the  truth  of  history,  with 
which  true  prophecy  must  ever  be  consistent :  Jacob  ne- 
ver became  the  father  of  a  multitude  of  nations.  Of  the 
remaining  two,  we  are  at  liberty  to  choose  that  whiclv 
mciy  be  most  consistent  with  history  and  with  the  gene- 
ral tenor  of  the  ancient  prophecies,  and  may  give  the 
most  importance  to  the  sense  and  the  most  spirit  to  the 
expression.  The  spirit  of  the  expression  will  be  the 
most  striking,  if  the  last  of  the  three  senses  be  adopted, 
that  of  a  person ;  for,  with  this  sense  of  the  word,  the 
literal  rendering  of  the  three  passages  will  be  thus :  Of 
the  two  first,  *'  I  have  appointed  thee  for  a  gatherer  of 
the  peoples:"  of  the  third,  "  A  nation  and  the  gatherer 
of  nations  shall  arise  from  thee."  Were  I  satisfied  that 
our  modern  copies  of  the  Hebrew  text  give  these  pro- 
mises to  Jacob  precisely  in  the  terms  in  which  they  were 
originally  delivered  to  him,  without  the  alteration  or 
omission  of  a  single  letter,  I  might  perhaps  allege,  in 
confirmation  of  the  interpretation  I  would  propose,  that 
our  Lord  may  be  imagined  to  allude  to  this  prediction 
of  himself  under  the  character  of  a  gatherer  of  the  na- 
tions, in  those  pathetic  words  with  which  he  closed  his 
public  preaching.  *'  O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem !  thou  mur- 
deress of  the  prophets !  thou  that  stonest  them  that  are 
sent  unto  thee !  how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy 
children  together  in  what  manner  the  hen  gathereth  her 
own  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not!" 
But,  whichever  be  the  true  rendering,*^ — whether  "  the 
gatherer,"  for  which  my  opinion  stands,  or  "  the  gather- 
ing together,"  wliich  the  Seventy  approve, — the  pro- 
48 


(     180    }  .^1^ 

phecy  contains  an  evident  allusion  either  to  tli&  persbil 
of  Christ  as  a  teacher,  or  to  his  business  as  a  teaching ; 
for  although  the  ambiguous  word,  in  the  sense  of  an  as- 
sembly, seems  to  carry  no  natural  limitation  of  its 
meaning,  but  might  stand  for  any  assembly  convened 
by  proclamation,  without  regard  to  any  particular  end 
or  purpose  for  which  it  might  be  holden,  yet  the  most 
frequent  use  of  it  among  the  sacred  writers  is  for  assem- 
blies of  which  the  purpose  is  either  civil  consultation  or 
religious  worship  and  instruction :  and  the  civil  assem- 
blies to  which  it  is  applied,  are  for  the  most  part  those 
in  which  something  of  religious  business  mixes  itself 
more  or  less  with  the  purpose  of  the  meeting :  so  that, 
in  the  sense  of  "  an  assembly,"  it  pretty  much  corres- 
ponds with  the  English  word  "  congregation,"  which 
by  its  natural  force  might  stand  for  any  assembly,  and 
yet,  by  the  usage  of  our  best  writers,  and  indeed  of 
common  speech,  is  appropriated  to  religious  assemblies. 
By  analogy,  therefore,  w^e  may  conclude  that  this  same 
word,  in  the  sense  of  "  an  assembler,"  must  peculiarly 
denote  the  person  who  presides  in  a  religious  congrega- 
tion, who  leads  the  public  worship,  and  instructs  the 
people :  and  the  gatherer  of  nations,  in  this  sense,  is  the 
proper  character  of  the  founder  of  a  religion  which  was 
to  be  adopted  by  the  whole  Gentile  world ;  except,  per- 
haps, that  it  may  seem  somewhat  more  comprehensive, 
as  describing  a  person  who  should  gather  the  nations,  as 
our  Saviour  would  have  gathered  the  children  of  Jeru- 
salem, for  the  double  purpose  of  teaching  and  of  saving 
them. 

In  these  passages,  therefore,  of  the  book  of  Genesis, 
as  they  stand  in  our  modern  copies  of  the  Hebrew  text, 
M  hether  we  follow  the  version  of  the  Seventy,  or  adopt 
another  which  the  original  words  will  equally  bear,  we 
have  an  explicit  prediction  of  the  instruction  and  salva- 
tion of  the  Gentiles,  to  be  accomplished  by  a  descendant 


(    181    ) 

of  Jacob.  The  two  first,  indeed,  in  which  it  is  said  to 
Jacob  that  he  should  be,  or  that  God  had  appointed 
him  to  be  for  a  gatherer  or  for  the  gathering  of  the  peo- 
ples, declare  perhaps  the  general  benefit  immediately  in- 
tended by  the  selection  of  Jacob's  family,  who,  for  the 
general  good  of  all  mankind,  were  appointed  to  be  for 
a  certain  period  the  depositaries  of  the  true  religion,  and 
the  objects  of  a  miraculous  discipline.  Their  inter- 
course, in  various  ways  at  different  periods — by  con- 
quest or  by  commerce,  by  alliance  or  by  servitude — 
with  the  principal  empires  and  most  enlightened  nations 
of  the  world,  in  the  earliest  times  with  the  Moabites, 
the  Phoenicians,  the  Egyptians,  and  the  Syrians  of  Da- 
mascus ;  afterwards  with  the  Assyrians,  the  Babylonians, 
and  the  Persians ;  then  with  the  Greeks  ;  and  last  of  all 
with  the  Romans  ; — the  intercourse  of  the  Israelites,  in 
every  period  of  their  state,  with  the  people  that  was  the 
most  considerable  for  the  time,  was  the  means  of  keep- 
ing alive  some  knowledge  of  the  true  God  even  among 
the  heathens,  in  such  a  degree  at  least  as  might  prepai'C 
the  world  for  a  general  revelation  at  the  appointed  season. 
They  were,  as  some  of  their  own  rabbin  have  very  well 
expressed  it,  the  witnesses  of  the  one  true  God  to  all 
mankind.  In  this  sense  Jacob  was  appointed  for  the 
congregations,  or  for  the  teacher  of  the  people :  his  pos- 
terity was  a  race  of  priests,  a  nation  of  prophets.  The 
third  passage  specifically  respects  either  the  general  sal- 
vation of  the  Gentiles,  or  the  person  who  was  to  save 
them  by  teaching  them  a  true  religion  and  a  pure  wor- 
ship. According  to  the  version  of  the  Seventy,  "  The 
gathering  together  of  the  nations  shall  be  from  thee," 
this  passage  is  exactly  parallel  with  our  Saviour's  own 
words,  in  his  conference  with  the  Samaritan  woman, 
*'  Salvation  is  of  the  Jews."  The  salvation  of  the  Gen- 
tiles is  predicted ;  and  the  accomplishment  of  it  is  as* 
cribe^  to  a  descendant  of  Jacob.    According  to  the 


(    182    ) 

Version  which  to  me  seems  preferable,  it  is  a  prophecy 
describing  a  descendant  of  Jacob  by  the  character  of  the 
Saviour  and  the  teacher  of  all  makind. 

We  find,  therefore,  in  this  promise  to  Jacob,  as  it  is 
represented  in  the  copies  of  the  Hebrew  text  which  are 
now  in  use,  such  a  declaration  of  God's  merciful  care 
of  all  mankind — so  explicit  a  prediction  of  a  teacher, 
or  at  least  of  a  teaching  of  the  Gentiles,  as  may  suffi- 
ciently account  for  the  just  views  which  the  Samaritans 
entertained  of  the  nature  as  well  as  of  the  extent  of  the 
Messiah's  redemption. 

I  cannot  take  leave  of  this  same  prophecy,  without 
considering  an  emendation  which  the  translation  of  the 
Seventy''  suggests.  The  true  object  of  the  prophecy  is 
that  which  appears  in  the  interpretation  of  the  Greek 
translators — the  mysterious  scheme  of  Providence  of 
gathering  all  nations  into  one  in  Christ.  But,  though  the 
Seventy  have  so  far  succeeded  as  not  to  misinterpret 
(for  they  have  expressed  the  true  purport  of  the  pro- 
phecy, and  have  introduced  no  false  images  which  the 
original  words  do  not  convey),  whether  they  have  had 
the  good  fortune  to  seize  the  true  turn  of  the  original 
expression,  and  have  given  the  prophecy  in  its  genuine 
form  as  well  as  its  true  meaning,  will  bear  a  question. 
In  their  translation,  the  prophecy  is  a  simple  prediction 
of  the  event.  The  original  w^ords  will  bear  an  exposi- 
tion which  render  it  an  animated  prediction  of  the  per- 
son by  whom  the  event  was  to  be  accomplished,  in  that 
particular  character  in  which  we  have  the  highest  reason 
to  think  he  is  actually  described  in  some  passages  of  the 
Mosaic  writings  which  have  been  long  misunderstood. 
The  different  interpretations  of  this  passage  have  all 
arisen,  as  I  have  in  a  preceding  part  of  this  discourse 
explained,  from  the  ambiguity  of  a  single  word,  which 
by  its  natural  force  may  indifferently  signify  either  a 
multitude  assembled,  the  act  of  assembling,  or  the  per- 


(    183    ) 

son  by  whose  authority  the  assembly  is  convened.  If 
the  ambiguous  word  be  taken  in  the  last  of  these  three 
meanings,  the  literal  rendering  of  the  three  passages  in 
question  will  be  to  this  effect ;  Of  the  two  first,  "  Thou 
shalt  be,"  or  "  I  have  appointed  thee  to  be  for  a  gatherer 
of  the  peoples:"  of  the  third,  "  A  natior.  and  the  ga- 
therer of  nations  shall  arise  from  thee."  I  shall  not 
dwell  upon  the  arguments  that  might  be  alleged  for  giv- 
ing a  preference  to  this  interpretation  of  the  passages  in 
question,  as  the  original  text  stiinds  in  our  modern  co- 
pies ;  but  I  shall  proceed  to  show,  that  in  older  copies, 
which  were  likely  to  be  more  sincere,  this  was  the  most 
obvious  if  not  the  only  sense  which  the  Hebrew  words 
presented. 

The  copies  of  iK©  Hebrew  text  which  are  now  in  use, 
from  which  the  English  and  most  modern  translations 
of  the  Old  Testament  have  been  made,  give  the  text 
which  the  Jews  have  thought  proper  to  consider  as  au- 
thentic, since  a  revision  of  the  sacred  books  by  certain 
learned  rabbin  who  lived  several  centuries  after  Christ. 
These  critics,  by  their  very'  imperfect  knowledge  of  the 
Hebrew  language,  which  in  their  time  had  been  a  dead 
language  among  the  Jews  themselves  for  many  ages,  and 
by  their  prejudices  against  our  Saviour,  were  but  ill 
qualified  for  their  arduous  undcriaking.  I  would  not 
over-confidently  charge  them  with  an  impiety  of  which 
they  have  been  suspected-^of  wilful  corruptions  of  the 
prophetic  text  in  prejudice  of  our  Lord's  pretensions. 
To  say  the  truth,  I  am  little  inclined  to  give  credit  to 
this  heavj^  accusation:  the  Jews,  to  do  them  justice, 
with  all  their  prejudices,  have  ever  shown  a  laudable  de- 
gree of  religious  veneration  for  the  sacred  text,  and 
have  employed  the  greatest  pains,  though  not  always  by 
the  most  judicious  means,  to  preserve  its  integrity.  I 
am  therefore  unwilling  to  believe  that  any  Jew  would 
make  the  least  wilful  alteration  in  any  expression  which 


(     184    ) 

he  believed  to  have  proceeded  from  the  inspired  pen. 
But,  although  I  am  inclined  to  acquit  them  of  the  impu- 
tation of  wilful  corruptions  (without  any  impeachment, 
however,  of  the  candour  of  those  who  judge  more  se- 
verely ;  for  they  ha^'e  room  enough  for  their  suspicions), 
it  is  but  reasonable  to  suppose, — it  were  unreasonable 
to  suppose  the  contrary, — that  where  various  readings 
occurred  of  any  prophetic  text,  these  Jewish  critics 
would  give  the  preference,  not  in  malice,  but  in  the 
error  of  a  prejudiced  mind, — they  would  give  the  pre- 
ference to  that  reading  which  might  seem  the  least  fa- 
vourable to  the  scheme  of  Christianity,  and  to  give  the 
least  support  to  the  claims  of  tliat  Saviour  whom  their 
ancestors  had  crucified  and  slain :  and  that  this  was  ac- 
tually their  practice,  might  be  j^rovea  by  many  striking 
instances.  It  is  therefore  become  of  great  importance, 
to  consider  how  certain  texts  might  stand  in  more  an- 
cient copies  Oi  the  sacred  writings ;  which  is  often  to 
be  discovered  from  the  translations  and  paraphrases  made 
before  the  appearance  of  our  Saviour,  and  of  conse- 
quence before  any  prejudices  against  him  could  operate. 
Among  these,  the  Greeli  translation  of  the  Pentateuch, 
for  its  great  antiquity,  deserves  the  highest  attention; 
being  about  two  hundred  ond  sixty  years  older  than  the 
Christian  sera.  And  though  an  extreme  caution  should 
be  used  in  admitting  any  conjectural  emendations  of  the 
sacred  text,  lest  we  should  corrupt  what  we  attempt  to 
amend,  yet  the  historical  inquiry  after  the  varieties  of 
the  ancient  copies  cannot  be  prosecuted  with  too  much 
freedom:  for,  though  it  might  be  dangerous  to  make 
any  alteration  of  the  modern  text,  except  upon  the 
most  certain  evidence,  yet  it  can  never  be  dangerous  to 
know  of  any  particular  text  that  it  was  once  read  other- 
wise ;  and  the  inquiry  might  often  prove  the  means  of 
restoring  many  illustrious  prophecies.  Nor  can  I  see 
lor  what  reason  we  should  be  scrupulous  to  adopt  read- 


(     i85    ) 

iiigs  which  give  perspicuity  to  particular  passages,  and 
heighten  the  prophetic  evidence,  when  we  ha\'e  the 
highest  reason  to  believe  that  those  readings  were  re- 
ceived by  the  Jews  themselves,  in  their  unprejudiced 
times;  and  were  only  called  in  question  afterwards,  for 
the  positive  testimony  they  seemed  to  bear  to  our  Sa- 
viour's claims,  and  to  the  gospel  doctrine  of  a  general 
redemption.  The  passages  which  would  be  most  apt  to 
suffer  through  the  prejudices  of  the  later  Jewish  critics, 
would  be  those  in  which  the  call  of  the  Gentiles  was 
most  openly  predicted,  and  in  which  the  Messiah  was 
described  as  an  universal  teacher. 

We  have  seen  that  this  description  of  the  Messiah  is 
contained  in  the  promises  to  Jacob,  as  they  stand  in  the 
modern  Hebrew  text.  From  an  attentive  consideration 
of  the  Greek  translation  of  the  Seventy,.  I  cannot  but 
persuade  myself  that  this  character  of  the  Messiah  was 
far  more  explicitly  expressed  in  the  copies  of  the  He- 
brew from  which  that  version  was  made,  though  it  was 
not  clearly  understood  by  those  translators ;  and  yet  the 
whole  difference  between  their  copies  of  the  original  and 
those  of  the  modern  Jews  consists  in  the  omission  of  a 
single  letter  in  the  later  copies.  The  word  "  gathering," 
or  "  gatherer,"  on  the  true  sense  of  which  so  much  de- 
pends, is  rendered  by  the  Seventy,  in  every  one  of  the 
three  passages  in  question,  in  the  plural  number, — not 
^^  gathering  ^''^  but  '"''gatherings;''''  and  yet  the  original 
Hebrew  word,  in  the  present  state  of  the  text,  is  sin- 
gular. These  translators  have  in  general  followed  their 
original  with  such  scrupulous  exactness,  expressing  in 
their  Greek  all  the  grammatical  peculiarities  of  their 
Hebrew  original,  often  at  the  expense  not  only  of  the 
purity  but  of  the  perspicuity  of  their  style,  that  no  one 
who  has  had  the  opportunity  of  giving  a  critical  atten- 
tion to  that  translation  will  believe,  that  the  Seventy 
would  in  three  places,  where  they  found  a  Avord  in  \\y- 


(    186    } 

Hebrew  which  could  not  but  be  singular,  choose,  with- 
out  any  necessity,  to  express  it  by  a  plural  word  in 
Greek:  and  every  one  who  cannot  believe  this,  will 
find  himself  compelled  to  conclude  that  that  word, 
which  in  our  modern  copies  of  the  Hebrew  text  is  ne- 
cessarily singular,  in  the  copies  which  the  Seventy  used 
was  something  that  might  be  taken  for  a  plural.  The 
addition  of  a  single  letter  (and  that  a  letter  which  tran- 
scribers have  been  very  apt  to  omit)  to  the  word  which 
now  occurs  in  the  Hebrew,  will  give  it  that  plural  form 
which  the  Seventy  have  expressed :  but,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  this  letter,  the  Hebrew  word  may  be  either  that 
plural  word  which  the  Seventy  understood  it  to  be,  or  a 
singular  word  which  literally  signifies  "  the  preacher." 
"  The  words  of  the  preaeher^  the  son  of  David,  king 
of  Jerusalem.^  Vanity  of  vanities,  saith  the  preacher." 
This,  you  know,  is  the  title  and  the  beginning  of  the 
book  of  Ecclesiastes.  The  word  which  here,  and  in 
other  parts  of  this  same  book,  is  very  properly  ren- 
dered in  our  English  Bibles  by  "  the  preacher,"  differs 
not  in  a  single  letter  from  that  plural  word  which  in 
the  promises  to  Jacob  the  Seventy  have  rendered  by 
"  the  gatherings."  But  since  this  word,  by  the  consent 
of  all  interpreters,  signifies  "  the  preacher"  throughout 
the  book  of  Ecclesiastes,  why  should  it  be  otherwise 
understood  in  other  passages  of  Scripture,  where  the 
same  sense  may  suit  the  context  ?  In  the  promises  to 
Jacob,  no  other  sense  of  the  word  will  equally  suit  the 
context,  since  no  other  interpretation  of  the  word  pro- 
duces an  equal  perspicuity  of  the  whole  sentence.  This, 
therefore,  is  the  sense  in  which  it  is  most  reasonable  to 
imderstand  it ;  and  the  literal  translation  of  these  three 
passages,  as  the  text  appears  to  have  stood  in  die  copies 
which  the  Greek  translators  followed,  will  be  thus :  Of 
the  two  first,  "  Thou  shalt  be,"  or  "  I  have  appointed 
llice  to  be  for  a  prcachor  of  the  peoples :"  of  the  third. 


(    187    ) 

^'  A  nation,  and  the  preacher  of  nations  shall  come  out 
of  thee."  It  is  no  great  objection  to  this  interpretation, 
that  the  Seventy  missed  it :  these  translators  were  Jews, 
and  would  be  little  inclined  to  admit  a  sense  of  any  text 
which  should  make  it  a  prediction  of  the  Messiah  in  the 
express  character  of  a  teacher  of  the  Gentiles.  They 
took  up,  therefore,  with  another  meaning,  which  the 
word,  considered  by  itself,  might  equally  bear,  though 
it  rendered  the  sentence  less  perspicuous.  The  want  of 
perspicuity  \vas  a  circumstance  in  which  they  found  a 
shelter  for  their  prejudices.  They  perhaps  imagined, 
that  "  the  gathering  of  the  nations,"  though  by  the  pro- 
per import  of  the  Hebrew  words  it  expressed  "  a  gather- 
ing of  the  nation  for  the  purpose  of  instruction  and  sal- 
vation," was  only  an  obscure  prediction  of  a  universal 
monarchy  of  the  Jews,  to  be  established  by  the  Messiah, 
and  a  gathering  of  the  Gentiles  under  that  monarchy  by 
conquest :  and  an  obscure  prediction  of  this  exaltation 
of  their  own  nation  was  more  to  their  taste  than  an  ex- 
plicit prophecy  of  the  Messiah  as  a  general  benefactor. 
The  Samaritans,  who  had  no  interest  in  the  national 
prosperity  of  the  Jews  their  enemies,  were  better  inter- 
preters. 

To  sum  up  the  whole  of  this  long  but  interesting  dis- 
quisition, it  appears  that  the  promises  to  Jacob,  con- 
veyed first  in  his  father  Isaac's  parting  blessing— re- 
peated in  the  patriarch's  dream  at  Luz,  and,  for  the  last 
time,  when  God  appeared  at  Peniel — in  any  sense  in 
which  they  can  be  taken,  contain,  especially  the  last 
of  them,  a  clear  prophecy  of  the  Messiah  as  a  univer- 
sal teacher.  The  precise  terms  in  which  these  pro- 
mises were  conveyed,  are  in  some  small  degree  un- 
certain ;  for  we  find,  in  the  translation  of  the  Seventy, 
the  plainest  indications  of  a  small  difference,  in  all  the 
three  texts,  between  their  copies  and  those  wliich  are 
now  received.  The  difference  is  only  of  a  single  letter 
49 


(    188    ) 

ill  the  ancient  copies,  which  is  not  found  in  those  of  the 
present  day ;  and  this  variety  affects  not  the  sense  of  the 
promise,  but  makes  some  difference  in  the  degree  of 
precision  with  which  the  sense  is  expressed.  The  terms 
of  the  promise,  according  to  the  one  or  the  other  of 
these  two  different  readings — according  to  the  ancient  or 
the  later  copies,  are  unquestionably  correct:  and,  ac- 
cording to  either,  the  general  purport  is  the  same :  but 
if  the  greater  correctness  lie  in  the  later  copies,  then  the 
Messiah's  character  of  a  teacher  of  the  nations  is  only  to 
be  drawn  from  the  general  character  of  a  gatherer,  in 
which  it  is  contained,  or  his  particular  business  of  teach- 
ing the  nations,  from  the  general  business  of  gathering 
them.  If  the  ancient  copies  gave  the  truer  reading,  then 
the  Messiah  is  expressly  announced  under  the  specific 
character  of  a  "  preacher  of  the  nations." 

In  either  way,  we  have  found,  in  these  promises  in 
the  book  of  Genesis,  of  which  the  Samaritans  acknow- 
ledged the  authority,  an  explicit  prophecy  of  the  Mes- 
siah as  an  universal  preacher.  Two  prophecies,  there- 
fore, of  this  import,  seem  to  be  yet  legible  in  the  bocks 
of  Moses ;  and,  by  bringing  these  prophecies  to  light, 
Ave  discover  a  new  circumstance  of  agreement  between 
the  character  which  our  Lord  sustained  and  the  prophe- 
cies that  went  before  concerning  him. 

I  would  now  turn  your  attention  for  a  moment  to  a 
suljject  which  might  well  deserve  a  particular  discussion, 
- — the  evidence  upon  which  the  Samaritans,  looking  for 
a  Christ  to  come,  were  induced  to  believe  that  Jesus 
was  the  person.  What  was  the  evidence  which  produced 
this  belief? — what  is  the  evidence  on  which  we  believe  ? 
We  are  curious  to  examine  the  philosopliy  of  the  doc- 
trine :  we  seek  for  the  completion  of  prophecies,  and  for 
the  evidence  of  miracles :  unless  we  see  signs  and  won- 
ders, we  will  not  believe ; — but  upon  what  evidence  did 
the  Samnritans  believe  ?    We  read  of  no  miracles  per- 


(     189    ) 

formed  among  the  Sycharites.  That  we  read  of  none  is 
not  a  proof  that  none  were  performed  :  but  if  any  were, 
it  was  not  evidence  of  that  kind  which  took  possession 
of  the  hearts  of  the  Samaritans ; — they  allege  our  Sa- 
viour's doctrine  as  the  ground  of  their  conviction ;  and 
our  Saviour's  doctrine  carries  with  it  such  internal  evi- 
dence,— it  is  in  itself  so  rational  and  consistent — in  its 
consequences  so  conducive  to  that  which  must  be  the 
great  end  of  a  Divine  revelation,  if  any  such  be  extant, 
— it  discovers  a  scheme  of  salvation  so  wonderfully 
adapted  both  to  the  perfections  of  God  and  the  infirmities 
of  man,  that  a  mind  which  hath  not  lost,  by  the  force 
of  vicious  habits,  its  natural  sense  of  right  and  wrong 
— its  natural  approbation  of  what  is  good,  and  great,  and 
amiable,  will  always  perceive  the  Christian  doctrine  to 
be  that  which  cannot  easily  be  disbelieved  when  it  is 
fairlj^  propounded.  The  Samaritans  heard  this  doctrine 
from  the  Divine  teacher's  mouth  for  the  short  space  of 
two  days :  we,  in  the  writings  of  the  evangelists,  have  a 
complete  summary  of  his  triennial  preaching ;  we  have, 
joined  with  the  detail  of  many  of  liis  miracles,  the  deli- 
neation of  his  character,  and  the  history  of  his  wonder- 
ful life  of  piety  and  love:  we  have  seen  the  fortitude 
with  which  he  repelled  temptation-r-the  patience  with 
which  he  endured  reproach-^the  resignation  with  which 
he  underwent  the  punishment  of  others'  crimes :  in  the 
figured  language  of  the  apostle,  we  ourselves  have  heard 
him  preach, — we  have  seen  him  crucified, — we  have 
seen  him  rise  again :  we  experience  his  present  power, 
in  the  providential  preservation  of  his  church  and  sup- 
port of  his  doctrine.  The  Samaritans  were  convinced 
by. a  preaching  of  two  days :  how,  then,  shall  we  escape, 
if  we  neglect  so  great  salvation  I 


SERMON    XXVIL 


Philippians  iii.  15. 

Let  us^  therefore^  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be  thus  minded ; 
and  if  in  any  thing  ye  be  otherwise  minded^  God  shall 
reveal  even  this  unto  you. 

1  HE  ,obscunty  of  tliis  text  arises  from  two  causes, — 
from  a  double  sense  of  the  word  "  minded,"  and  from 
an  improper  use  of  the  word  "  otherwise." 

The  word  "  minded"  predicates  indifferently  any  state 
of  mind, — this  or  that  particular  state,  according  ;;.s  the 
occasion  upon  which  it  is  used,  and  the  words  with 
which  it  is  connected,  may  limit  and  qualify  its  general 
meaning.  A  state  of  the  mind  may  be  either  a  state  of 
its  dispositions  and  affections  towards  external  objects, 
— a  state  of  its  hopes  and  fears — its  desires  and  aver- 
sions— its  schemes,  purposes,  and  machinations ;  or  a 
state  of  the  intellect  with  respect  to  its  internal  faculties 
■ — the  quickness  of  the  apprehension — the  strength  of 
the  memory — the  extent  of  knowledge,  and  the  truth 
or  error  of  opinion.  The  condition  of  a  man's  mind 
with  respect  to  these  or  any  other  circumstances  of  its 
appetites — its  native  povvcrs  or  acquired  endowments, 
may  be  expressed  in  our  language  by  his  being  thus 
or  thus  minded.  By  this  great  latitude  of  its  signifi- 
cation, the  English  word  "  minded"  serves  to  convey 
the  meaning  of  a  great  \'anety  of  words  in  the  original 
languages  of  the  holy  Scriptures.    In  this  particular  text, 


(    191    ) 

however,  it  is  one  and  the  same  word  in  the  original 
which  answers  in  both  parts  of  the  sentence  to  the  word 
"  minded:"  and  this  original  word  might  seem,  by  its 
nature  and  derivation,  to  be  capable  of  the  same  variety 
of  meaning  as  the  EngUsh ;  but,  by  the  usage  of  the  sa- 
cred writers,  its  signification,  so  far  as  it  corresponds  at 
all  with  the  English  word  "  minded,"  is  far  more  re- 
strained ;  for  it  is  never  applied  to  the  intellectual  part 
of  the  mind,  but  with  respect  to  the  opinions, — nor  to 
the  disposition,  but  in  a  religious  sense,  to  express  the 
state  of  moral  taste  and  sentiment.  It  carries,  however, 
a  double  meaning,  seeing  it  may  express  a  state  of  mind 
with  respect  either  to  opinion  or  religious  disposition. 
It  is  used  in  these  two  different  senses  in  the  different 
branches  of  the  text ;  and  this  double  application  of  the 
same  word,  in  different  clauses  of  the  same  sentence, 
makes  the  whole  difficulty  of  the  passage  as  it  lies  in  the 
original. 

But,  in  our  English  translation,  this  difficulty  is  greatly 
heightened  by  the  improper  use  of  the  word  "  other- 
wise," which  in  our  language  is  a  word  of  comparison 
between  individual  things,  insomuch  that  it  can  never 
be  used  with  propriety  unless  it  is  answered  by  the 
comparative  "  than"  either  expressed  or  understood ; 
and  the  expression  "  to  be  otherwise  minded,"  in  the 
English  language,  properly  signifies  to  be  in  a  state  of 
mind  other  than  some  certain  state  afterwards  mentioned 
or  already  described.  In  the  text,  I  doubt  not  but  the 
generality  of  the  readers  of  the  English  Bibles  imagine 
an  opposition  is  intended  between  "  thus  minded"  and 
"  otherwise  minded,"  and  would  perhaps  supply  the 
sentence  thus :  "  Let  us,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be  thus 
minded ;  and  if  in  any  thing  you  be  otherwise  minded 
than  thus,  God  shall  reveal  even  this  unto  you."  This, 
at  least,  seems  to  be  the  exposition  to  which  the  English 
expressions  naturally  lead :  but  this  exposition  will  lead 


{    1^2    ) 

us  far  away  from  any  thing  that  may  be  supposed  to  be 
a  wise  man's  meaning. 

Now,  the  original  word  which  is  here  rendered  "  other- 
wise," is  frequently  indeed  used,  like  the  English  word, 
to  indicate  comparison;  yet,  in  its  primary  and  most 
proper  meaning,  in  which  I  think  it  is  to  be  taken  here, 
it  predicates  generally,  without  reference  to  individual 
terms  of  comparison,  the  opposite  of  sameness  or  uni- 
formity,— that  is,  difference  or  variety;  and  it  might 
perhaps  be  better  rendered  by  the  English  word  "  va- 
riously." We  will  take  the  liberty,  therefore,  to  substi- 
tute "  variously"  in  the  place  of  "  otherwise"  in  the 
text;  and,  bearing  in  remembrance  the  double  meaning 
of  the  word  "  minded,"  let  us  see  what  sense  the  pas- 
sage, thus  corrected,  will  present.  "  Let  us,  as  many 
as  be  perfect,  be  thus  minded ;  and  if  in  any  thing  you 
be  variously  minded,  God  shall  reveal  even  this  unto 
you."  Light  seems  to  open  on  tne  passage :  the  opposi- 
tion which  before  perplexed  us  between  "  thus  minded" 
and  "  otherwise  minded"  now  disappears.  The  defi- 
ciency of  the  sentence  is  in  another  part  than  we  at  first 
suspected,  and  is  to  be  very  differently  supplied.  "  Let 
us,  as  many  as  are  perfect,  be  thus  minded ;  and  if  in  any 
thing  ye  be  variously  minded,  God  shall  reveal  to  you 
even  this  thing  concer7ii?ig  xvhich  you  have  various  minds,''* 
I  doubt  not  but  you  now  perceive  that  the  exhortation 
to  be  "  thus  minded"  respects  certain  virtuous  habits  of 
the  mind — certain  sentiments  with  respect  to  religious 
practice,  which  the  apostle  would  recommend  it  to  the 
Philippians  to  assume :  and  the  supposition  of  their  be- 
ing variously  minded,  regards  certain  differences  of  opi- 
nion which  he  apprehended  might  subsist  among  them 
when  this  epistle  was  written,  and  which,  he  assures 
them,  the  good  habits  he  prescribes,  were  they  once  be- 
come universal,  would  in  a  great  measure  abolish,  by 
that  especial  blessing  of  God's  overruling  providenc(^ 


(     193    ) 

and  enlightening  Spirit  which  ever  accompanies  the  up- 
right and  sincere. 

The  disposition  or  habit  of  the  mind  which  the  apostle 
recommends,  is  that  which  in  the  verses  immediately- 
preceding  the  text  he  has  described  as  his  own, — namely, 
such  a  constant  and  earnest  desire  of  continual  improve- 
ment in  the  habits  of  a  Christian  life,  as  made  him  think 
lightly  of  any  proficiency  he  had  actually  made  in  it, 
otherwise  than  as  a  necessary  step  towards  farther  at- 
tainments. Having  expressed  his  high  sense  of  the  im- 
portance of  the  Christian  doctrine,  and  the  merit  of  that 
righteousness  which  consists  in  the  exercise  of  Christian 
duties,  and  arises  from  a  true  and  lively  faith  in  Christ, 
he  declares,  in  the  tenth  and  eleventh  verses,  that  he  is 
content  to  be  conformed  to  his  Master's  death, — that  is, 
to  suffer  and  to  die,  as  he  did,  for  the  good  of  mankind, 
and  for  the  interests  of  the  true  religion,  if  by  any 
means  he  might  "  attain  unto  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead.  Not,"  says  he,  "  that  I  have  .yet  gotten  hold, — 
not  that  I  am  secure  of  attaining  the  great  prize  to 
which  I  aspire,  or  am^  already  perfect, — but  I  perse- 
vere in  the  pursuit,  if,  by  my  utmost  diligence,  I  may 
at  last  lay  hold  of  it :  for  which  purpose, — that  I  might 
persevere  in  this  great  pursuit,  and  at  last  lay  hold  upon 
the  prize, — hold  has  been  taken  of  me  by  Jesus  Christ." 
There  is  in  the  original,  a  certain  animated  play  (not 
unusual  in  the  most  serious  discourse,  nor  abating  any 
thing  of  its  seriousness,  but  adding  to  its  force)  upon 
the  double  meaning  of  the  word  "  lay  hold."  A  person 
lays  hold  upon  a  thing,  when  he  takes  possession  of  it, 
and  claims  it  as  his  right  and  property.  In  this  sense, 
the  apostle  speaks  with  much  diffidence  and  humility  of 
his  hope  of  laying  hold  of  his  reward.  A  guide  lays 
hold  of  a  person  that  is  going  out  of  his  way,  to  lead 
him  into  it,  or  of  a  feeble  person,  to  support  him.  In 
this  sense  the  apostle  speaks  of  Christ's  laying  hold  o» 


(    194    ) 

him,  to  conduct  him  into  the  path  of  hfe,  and  to  sup^ 
port  him  in  it ;  at  the  same  time,  not  without  some  ob- 
Hque  alkision  to  the  miraculous  manner  of  his  first  con- 
version, under  the  image  of  a  sudden  and  violent  seizure. 
The  apostle  goes  on.  "  Brethren,  I  do  not  so  account 
of  myself  as  if  I  had  already  gotten  hold ; — zealous  as  I 
have  been  in  the  propagation  of  the  faith, — patient  as  I 
am  under  all  the  sufferings  in  which  it  has  involved  me, 
— prepared  as  I  am  to  sacrifice  my  life  in  its  support,  yet 
I  do  not  entertain  the  arrogant  opinion,  that,  by  these 
services  or  these  dispositions,  I  have  already  earned  my 
reward.  I  pretend  to  no  merit  beyond  this  one  thing, 
that,  forgetting  what  is  behind, — thinking  little  of  attain- 
ments already  made, — I  stretch  forwards  to  what  is  yet 
before,  endeavouring  at  continual  improvement.  I  make 
towards  the  goal,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus.  This  is  my  mind :  these  are  my  no- 
tions  of  our  duty :  these  are  my  views  of  our  perfec- 
tion ;  and  let  us  all,  as  many  as  be  perfect, — as  many  as 
pretend  to  perfection,  or  would  aspire  after  it, — be  thus 
minded ;  and  if  in  any  thing  ye  be  variously  minded, — 
if  in  certain  points  of  doctrine,  or  concerning  some  par- 
ticulars of  external  worship,  you  are  not  all  agreed,  pro- 
vided you  are  sincere  in  the  desire,  and  constant  in  the 
endeavour  to  improve,  God  will  enlighten  your  under- 
standings, and  bring  you,  by  a  general  apprehension  of 
the  truth,  to  agree  no  less  in  your  opinions  than  in  the 
general  principles  of  life."  The  apostle  goes  on,  in  the 
following  verse.  "  Be  that  as  it  may,  so  far  as  we  have 
already  attained,  walk  by  the  same  rule ;  have  your  minds 
upon  the  same  thing."  This  is  the  exact  rendering  of 
the  sixteenth  verse.  The  words  *'  let  us,"  which  occur 
twice  in  the  English  translation, — "  let  us  walk  by  the 
same  rule,"  and  "  let  us  mind  the  same  thing," — the 
words  "  let  us"  are  in  both  places  an  addition  of  the 
translators,  and  darken  the  meaning.    "  But,  whatever 


(    195    ) 

differences  of  opinion  may  remain  among  you,"  says  the 
apostle,  "  in  that  which  I  for  my  part  consider  as  the 
only  perfection  to  whicli  I  have  yet  attained,  agree  in 
following  my  example :  walk  by  the  same  rule  by  which 
I  walk,  of  neglecting  the  things  that  are  behind,  and 
making  for  the  goal ;  have  your  minds  upon  the  same 
thing  which  my  mind  is  set  upon — a  continual  progress 
and  improvement." 

Thus  I  have  opened  to  you  what  I  conceive  to  be  the 
true  meaning  of  the  text.    Indeed,  it  is  the  only  one  that 
can  be  drawn  without  violence  from  the  words,  and  is 
the  best  suited  to  the  purport  of  the  apostle's  discourse : 
and,  among  a  great  vaiiety  of  expositions  that  have  been 
proposed,  there  is  but  one  other  that  seems  to  deserve 
the  least  attention, — which  is  that  of  those  who,  in  the 
expression  "  thus  minded,"  refer  the  word  "  thus"  to 
the  opinion  which  the  apostle  expresses  in  the  begin- 
ning of  this  chapter,  concerning  the  ceremonies  of  the 
Mosaic  law, — that  they  make  no  part  of  a  Christian's 
duty ;   and  the  difference   of  opinion  expressed  in  the 
words  "  otherwise  minded,"  they  understand  of  a  differ- 
ence of  opinion  between  the  apostle  himself  and  some 
members  of  the  church  to  which  he  writes,  upon  that 
particular  question  concerning  the  importance  of  the 
Jewish  ceremonies:  and  thus  they  bring  the  sense  of 
the  text  to  nothing  more  than  a  declaration  concerning 
those  who  might  stand  for  the  obligation  of  the  ceremo- 
nial law  under  the  Christian  dispensation, — that  God 
would,  at  some  time  or  other,  open  their  minds  to  per- 
ceive the  error  of  this  particular  opinion.    As  diis  expo- 
sition has  been  pretty  much  received,  and  has  found  its 
way  into  some  of  the  best  English  paraphrases  of  this 
episUe,  it  may  be  proper  briefly  to  mention  our  reasons 
for  rejecting  it.    One  great  objection  to  this  interpreta- 
tion is,  that  it  turns  the  text  into  a  very  singular  promise 
of  illumination,  upon  a  particular  question,  to  all  who 
50 


;^ 


(     196    ) 


should  dissent  from  the  aposde's  doctrines,  \v  ithout  the 
stipulation  of  any  condition  which  might  render  them  in 
any  degree  worthy  of  such  extraordinary  favour.  It  is 
far  more  reasonable  to  understand  the  promise  of  a  ge- 
neral illumination  of  the  mind  upon  religious  subjects, 
limited  to  those  who,  under  much  darkness  and  imbe- 
cility of  understanding,  should  distinguish  themselves 
by  a  sincerity  of  good  intention.  But  an  objection  of 
still  greater  weight  than  this  is,  that  by  the  evident  con- 
nection of  the  text  with  the  following  verse,  this  expo- 
sition is  clearly  set  aside.  Read  the  two  verses,  the  fif- 
teenth and  sixteenth,  in  connection,  and  you  will  easily 
decide  whether  the  sum  of  the  admonition,  according  to 
this  view  of  the  passage,  is  such  as  the  apostle  can  be 
supposed  to  give.  "  Let  us,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be 
thus  minded  with  respect  to  the  rites  of  the  Jewish  re- 
ligion, that  under  the  Christian  establishment  they  are 
of  no  importance  towards  salvation ;  and  if  any  of  you 
think  otherwise  about  them,  God  will,  at  some  time  or 
other,  bring  you  to  a  better  mind.  But,  be  that  as  it 
may, — whether  you  are  brought  to  that  better  mind  or 
no,  as  far  as  we  have  attained,  walk  by  the  same  rule." 
By  what  same  rule?  Why,  according  to  this  exposi- 
tion, by  the  rule  of  neglecting  the  Jewish  ordinances. 
"Have  this  same  mind."  What  same  mind?  That 
which  it  hath  been  just  supposed  they  might  not  have. 
— the  opinion  that  the  ritual  pijrt  of  the  Jewish  religion 
is  superseded  by  the  gospel.  He  that  would  stand  for 
this  interpretation  of  the  text,  let  him  find  another  in- 
stance, in  the  apostle's  writings,  where  the  apostle  en- 
joins an  hypocritical  assent  to  opinions  which  the  under- 
standing has  not  received,  or  requires  of  any  man  to 
walk  by  a  rule  which  has  not  the  entire  approbation  of 
his  conscience. 

I  have  thought  proper  to  examine  this  exposition  more 
particularly  than  I  should  otherwise  have  done,  because 


(     197    ) 

I  find  it  is  much  received,  and  has  found  its  way  into 
some  of  the  best  Enghsh  paraphrases  of  this  epistle. 
But,  having  shown  you  that  it  brings  the  text  to  a  mean- 
ing little  consistent  with  the  general  sense  and  spirit  of 
the  gospel,  I  shall  think  it  needless  to  dwell  upon  the 
farther  confutation  of  it.  Some  other  expositions  are  to 
be  found  among  the  Latin  fathers,  which  all  rest  upon  a 
corruption  of  some  ancient  copies  of  the  Latin  version. 
Of  the  two  which  the  genuine  text  of  the  apostle  may 
bear,  that  which  I  adopt  is  what  the  words  in  their  na- 
tural meaning  most  obviously  present,  and  the  only  one 
that  the  context  will  admit.  We  may  therefore  safely 
rest  in  this  as  the  true  exposition  of  the  apostle's  mean- 
ing :  and  I  shall  accordingly  proceed  to  set  before  you 
the  important  lessons  which  the  text,  in  this  view  of  it, 
suggests ;  which  are  these  two.  First,  it  teaches  us  in 
what  the  true  perfection  of  the  Christian  character  con- 
sists; and,  secondly,  what  the  immediate  advantages  to 
the  Christian  community  would  be,  if  that  good  habit 
of  the  mind  which  constitutes  perfection  were  once  be- 
come universal ;  which  would  be  nothing  less  than  this, 
.—that  all  differences  of  opinion  (at  least  all  contentious 
disagreement,  the  "great  bane  of  Christian  love  and  har- 
mony) would  be  abolished,  by  God's  blessing  on  the 
natural  operation  of  this  happy  temper ;  and  Christians 
would  be  established  in  that  universal  peace  and  charity 
which  is  so  generally  professed  and  preached,  and  is  so 
little  practised. 

First,  the  text  teaches  us  in  what  the  perfection  of  the 
Christian  character  consists, — namely,  in  an  earnest  de- 
sire and  steady  pursuit  of  perpetual  improvement.  This, 
at  least  the  apostle  declares,  was  the  highest  attainment 
he  himself  could  boast :  and  ^\  hat  v.-as  the  height  of  the 
apostle's  virtue  may  vv^ell  be  allowed  to  be  the  perfection 
of  every  private  Christian,  especially  as  it  is  in  this  cir- 
cumstance that  he  proposes  himself  as  "an  example  to  ail 


who  would  be  perfect.    "  Let  us,  as  many  as  be  perfect, 
be  thus  minded."    Perhaps  you  will  imagine,  that  if  this 
be  perfection,  it  is  an  attainment  easily  made,  or  rath^pr, 
that  it  is  a  quality  of  which  none  are  destitute,  since  all 
men  have  more  or  less  of  a  desire  of  being  better  than 
they  feel  themselves  to  be.    But  that  desire  of  improve- 
ment in  which  the  apostle  places  his  own  and  every 
Christian's  perfection,  is  not  a  desire  terminated  in  the 
mind  itself,  unproductive  of  any  real  eifort  to  improve. 
This  is  so  little  the  perfection  of  a  Christian,  that  it 
seems  to  be  only  a  necessary  part  of  the  human  character 
in  its  utmost  state  of  depravation :  it  is  the  necessary  re- 
sult of  that  natural  perception  of  right  and  wrong  of 
which  the  worst  of  men  are  never  totally  divested.     He 
that  should  be  divested  of  it  would  from  that  moment 
cease  to  be  a  man :  he  would  cease  to  be  a  moral  agent, 
inasmuch  as,  having  lost  all  natural  sense  of  the  moral 
quality  of  his  actions,  he  would  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
l^oses,  with  respect  to  moral  good  and  evil,  be  irrational : 
he  would  have  lost  the  faculty  of  reasoning  upon  that 
subject,  and  could  no  longer  be  accountable  for  the  vio- 
lation of  rules  which  he  would  no  longer  understand. 
These  perceptions,  therefore,  from  which  our  whole  ca- 
pacity of  being  good  or  bad  arises,  must  be  of  the  na- 
ture of  man,  if  man  by  his  nature  be  a  moral  agent :  and 
the  difference  between  good  men  and  bad  is  not  that  the 
latter  do  really  lose  the  perceptions  which  the  other  re- 
tain, but  that,   retaining  the  same  original  perceptions, 
they  lose  the  benefit  of  them  in  the  conduct  of  their  lives, 
turning  the  attention,  by  a  voluntary  effort  of  the  mind, 
to  other  objects.     These  perceptions  being  of  the  nature 
of  man,  it  is  of  the  nature  of  man,  even  of  wicked  men,  to 
approve  virtue  and  to  disapprove  its  opposite :  and  from 
a  natural  desire  of  being  in  friendship  with  himself,  the 
wicked  man,  when  he  reflects  upon  his  own  character, 
and  perceives  that  it  is  destitute  of  those  qualities  which 


(    199    ) 

might  naturally  claim  his  own  respect  and  love,  cannot 
but  wish  that  he  were  the  opposite  of  what  he  is, — re- 
spectable rather  than  contemptible — amiable  rather  than 
odious.  Hence  it  is,  that  nothing  is  more  common  than 
for  persons  of  the  most  debauched  and  abandoned  lives, 
to  acknowledge  that  they  are  not  what  they  ought  to  be, 
and  to  express  a  wish  that  they  were  better, — at  the  same 
time  that  they  speak  upon  a  subject  of  such  great  con- 
cern with  a  tranquillity  and  coolness  that  shows  that  no- 
thing is  farther  from  their  thoughts  than  the  purpose  of 
making  any  vigorous  efforts  towards  their  own  reforma- 
tion. These  wishes  are  not  insincere ;  but  they  are  in- 
voluntary, resulting,  by  a  natural  necessity,  from  that 
constitution  of  the  human  mind  which  is  indeed  its  per- 
fection, considered  as  the  work  of  God,  but  is  no  more 
a  part  of  the  moral  virtue  of  the  man,  considered  as  a 
free  agent,  than  any  other  of  his  natural  endowments, — 
the  strength  of  his  memory,  for  instance,  or  the  quick- 
ness of  his  apprehension,  or  even  than  the  exterior 
comeliness  of  his  person,  his  muscular  strength,  or  the 
agility  of  his  limbs.  In  all  these  natural  gifts  and  facul- 
ties, among  which  conscience  is  the  first  in  worth  and 
dignity,  there  is  reason  to  admire  the  good  and  perfect 
work  of  God:  but  it  is  in  the  application  of  them,  by 
the  effort  of  tlie  will,  to  God's  service,  to  the  good  of 
mankind,  and  to  self-improvement,  that  we  are  to  seek 
the  true  perfection  of  the  human  character.  The  bare 
unprevailing  wish  that  we  were  what  we  necessarily  un- 
derstand we  ought  to  be,  hath  nothing  more  in  it  of  mo- 
ral merit  than  the  involuntary  assent  of  the  mind  to  any 
other  self-evident  truth.  In  the  epistle  to  the  Romans, 
St.  Paul,  describing  the  condition  of  the  mind  in  its 
most  corrupt  and  ruined  state,  when  reason  is  become 
the  slave  of  appetite,  and  the  prohibitions  of  God's  pure 
and  holy  law  serve  only  to  irritate  the  passions  which 
they  ought  to  control, — in  this  ruined  condition  of  the 


(     200    ) 

mind,  St.  Paul  supposes  that  the  natural  sense  of  what 
is  right  remains,  accompanied  with  an  ineffectual  desire 
of  performing  it :  and  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  he 
speaks  of  that  quality  here  as  die  perfection  of  a  Chris- 
tian, which  there  he  attributes  to  the  reprobate.     That 
desire  of  improvement  which  makes  the  perfect  Chris- 
tian, the  apostle  describes  in  himself  as  an  aotive  prin- 
ciple, maintaining  the  ascendant  in  his  heart  over  every 
other  appetite,  and  displaying  its  energy  in  the  whole  tenor 
of  his  life.    He  describes  it  as  derived  from  a  conviction 
of  the  understanding  that  the  proper  business  of  this  life 
is  to  prepare  for  the  next.     The  formal  nature  of  it  he 
places  in  this, — that  its  immediate  object  is  rather  virtue 
itself  than  any  exterior  prosperity  of  condition  with 
which  virtue  may  be  rewarded:   for  he  compares  his 
thirst  of  virtuous  attainments  to  the  passion  that  stimu- 
lated the  competitors  in  the  Grecian  games ;  and  he  de- 
scribes the  reward  which  the  Christian  seeks  under  the 
image  of  the  prize  to  be  bestowed  on  him  that  should 
be  foremost  in  the  race.    The  passion  which  fires  the 
competitors  in  any  honourable  contest  is  a  laudable  am- 
bition to  excel ;  and  the  prize  is  no  otherwise  valued 
than  as  the  mark  and  seal  of  victory.    Of  that  reward 
which  is  the  object  of  the  Christian's  hope,  it  were  mad- 
ness to  affirm  that  it  has  not  an  intrinsic  value ;  for  we 
are  taught  that  it  will  consist  in  a  state  of  perfect  happi- 
ness :  but  that  happiness  is  therefore  perfect,  because  it 
is  the  condition  of  a  nature  brought  to  perfect  holiness ; 
and  that  desire  of  improvement  in  which  the  apostle 
places  our  perfection  hath  for  its  immediate  object  those 
virtuous  attainments  which  insure  the  reward,   rather 
than  the  reward  itself,  otherwise  considered  than  as  the 
honourable  distinction  of  the  approved  servants  of  God. 
It  is  easy  to  perceive  that  this  thirst  for  moral  excellency 
must  be  in  its  nature  what  the  apostle  in  himself  expe- 
rienced— a  principle  of  growing  energy;  for,  wherever 


(    201    ) 

this  principle  is  sincere,  as  long  as  any  degree  of  imper- 
fection remains,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  as  long  as 
any  farther  excellence  is  attainable,  farther  improvement 
must  be  the  object.  The  true  Christian,  therefore,  ne- 
ver can  rest  in  any  habits  of  virtue  already  attained:  his 
present  proficiency  he  values  only  as  a  capacity  of  better 
attainments ;  and,  like  the  great  Roman  whose  appetite 
of  conquest  was  inflamed  by  every  new  advantage  gained, 
he  thinks  nothing  done  while  aught  remains  which 
prowess  may  achieve. 

Such  is  the  principle,  as  may  be  collected  from  the 
apostle's  description  of  his  own  feelings  and  his  own 
practice, — such  is  the  principle  in  which  he  places  the 
perfection  of  a  Christian ;  in  its  origin  rational,  in  its  ob- 
ject disinterested,  in  its  energies  boundless :  and  in  these 
three  properties  its  perfective  quality  consists.  And 
this  I  would  endeavour  more  distinctly  to  prove :  but, 
for  this  purpose,  it  will  be  necessary  to  explain  what 
man's  proper  goodness  naturally  is,  and  to  consider  man 
both  in  his  first  state  of  natural  innocence,  and  in  his 
present  state  of  redemption  from  the  ruin  of  his  fall. 
But  this  is  a  large  subject,  which  we  shall  treat  in  a  se^ 
parate  discourse. 


SERMON    XXVIII. 


Philippians  iii.  15. 

Let  us,  therefore,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be  thus  minded; 
and  if  in  any  thing  ye  be  otherwise  minded,  God  shall 
reveal  even  this  unto  you. 

1  HE  perfection  of  the  Christian  character,  as  may  be 
collected  from  the  apostle's  description  of  his  own  feel- 
ings and  his  own  practice,  consists,  it  seems,  in  an 
earnest  desire  of  perpetual  progress  and  improvement  in 
the  practical  habits  of  a  good  and  holy  life.  When  the 
apostle  speaks  of  this  as  the  highest  of  his  own  attain- 
ments, he  speaks  of  it  as  the  governing  principle  of  his 
whole  life ;  and  the  perfective  quality  that  he  ascribes  to 
it  seems  to  consist  in  these  three  properties, — 'that  it  is 
boundless  in  its  energy,  disinterested  in  its  object,  and 
yet  rational  in  its  origin.  That  tliese  are  the  properties 
which  make  this  desire  of  proficiency  truly  perfective  of 
the  Christian  character,  I  shall  now  attempt  to  prove ; 
and,  for  this  purpose,  it  will  be  necessary  to  inquire 
what  man's  proper  goodness  is,  and  to  take  a  view  of 
man,  both  in  his  first  state  of  natural  innocence,  and  in 
his  actual  state  of  redemption  from  the  ruin  of  his  fall. 

Absolute  perfection  in  moral  goodness,  no  less  than  in 
knowledge  and  power,  belongs  incommunicably  to  God; 
ibr  this  reason,  that  goodness  in  the  Deity  only  is  origi- 
nal :  in  the  creature,  to  whatever  degree  it  may  be  car- 
ried, it  is  derived.    If  man  hath  a  just  discernment  of 


(     203     ) 

what  is  good,  to  whatever  degree  of  fitness  it  may  be 
improved,  it  is  originally  founded  on  certain  first  prin- 
ciples of  intuitive  knowledge  which  the  created  mind 
receives  from  God.     If  he  hath  the  will  to  perform  it,  it 
is  the  consequence  of  a  connection  which  the  Creator 
hath  established  between  the  decisions  of  the  judgment 
and  the  effort  of  the  will;  and  for  this  truth  of  judgment 
and  this  rectitude  of  the  original  bias  of  the  will,  in 
whatever  perfection  he  may  possess  them  as  natural 
endowments,  he  deserves  no  praise,  any  otherwise  than 
as  a  statue  or  a  picture  may  deserve  praise,  in  which 
what  is  really  praised  is  not  the  marble  nor  the  canvass 
— not  the  elegance  of  the  figure  nor  the»richness  of 
the  colouring,  but  the  invention  and  execution  of  the 
artist.     This,  however,  properly  considered,  is  no  im- 
perfection in  man,   seeing  it  belongs  by   necessity  to 
the  condition  of  a  creature.     The  thing  made  can  be 
originally  nothing  but  what  the  maker  makes  it :  there- 
fore the  created  mind  can  have  no  original  knowledge 
iDUt  what  the  Maker  hath  infused — no  original  propen- 
sities but  such  as  are  the  necessary  result  of  the  esta- 
blished harmony  and  order  of  its   faculties.    A  crea-* 
ture,  therefore,  in  whatever  degree  of  excellence  it  be 
supposed  to  be  created,  cannot  originally  have  any  merit 
of  its  own ;  for  merit  must  arise  from  voluntary  actions, 
and  cannot  be  a  natural  endowment:  and  it  is  owing 
to  a  wonderful  contrivance  of  the  beneficent  Creator,  in 
the  fabric  of  the  rational  mind,  that  created  beings  are 
capable  of  attaining  to  any  thing  of  moral  excellence — 
that  they  are  capable  of  becoming  what  the  Maker  of 
them  may  love,  and  their  own  understandings  approve. 
The  contrivance  that  I  speak  of  consists  in  a  principle  of 
which  we  have  large  experience  in  ourselves,  and  may 
with  good  reason  suppose  it  to  subsist  in  every  intelli- 
gent being,  except  the  First  and  Sovereign  intellect.     It 
is  a  principle  which  it  is  in  every  man's  power  to  turn, 


f    204    -j 

if  he  be  so  pleased,  to  his  own  advantage :  but  if  he  fail 
to  do  this,  it  is  not  in  his  power  to  hinder  that  the  de- 
ceiving spirit  turn  it  not  to  his  detriment.  In  its  own 
nature  it  is  indifferent  to  the  interests  of  virtue  or  of 
vice,  being  no  propensity  of  the  mind  to  one  thing  or  to 
another,  but  simply  this  property, — that  whatever  ac- 
tion, either  good  or  bad,  hath  been  done  once,  is  done 
a  second  time  with  more  ease  and  with  a  better  liking ; 
and  a  frequent  repetition  heightens  the  ease  and  pleasure 
of  the  performance  without  limit.  By  virtue  of  this 
property  of  the  mind,  the  having  done  any  thing  once 
becomes  a  motive  to  the  doing  of  it  again :  the  having 
done  it  twice  is  a  double  motive ;  and  so  many  times 
as  the  act  is  repeated,  so  many  times  the  motive  to  the 
doing  of  it  once  more  is  multiplied.  To  this  principle, 
habit  owes  its  ^vonderful  force ;  of  which  it  is  usual  to 
hear  men  complain,  as  of  something  external  that  en- 
slaves the  will.  But  the  complaint,  in  this,  as  in  every 
instance  in  which  man  presumes  to  arraign  the  ways  of 
Providence,  is  rash  and  unreasonable.  The  fliult  is  in 
man  himself,  if  a  principle  implanted  in  him  for  his 
good  becomes  by  negligence  and  mismanagement  the  in- 
strument of  his  ruin.  It  is  owing  to  this  principle  that 
every  faculty  of  the  understanding  and  every  sentiment 
of  the  heart  is  capable  of  being  improved  by  exercise. 
It  is  the  leading  principle  in  the  whole  system  of  the 
human  constitution,  modifying  both  the  physical  qua- 
lities of  the  body,  and  the  moral  and  intellectual  endow- 
ments of  the  mind.  We  experience  the  use  of  it  in 
every  calling  and  condition  of  life.  By  this  the  sinews 
of  the  labourer  are  hardened  for  toil:  by  this  the  hand  of 
the  mechanic  acquires  its  dexterity :  to  this  we  owe  the 
amazing  progress  of  the  human  mind  in  the  politer  arts 
and  the  abstruser  sciences.  And  it  is  an  engine  which 
it  is  in  our  power  to  employ  to  nobler  and  more  benefi- 
uial  purposes.     By  the  same  principle,  when  the  atten- 


(    205     ) 

tion  is  turned  to  moral  and  religious  subjects,  the  un- 
derstanding may  gradually  advance  beyond  any  limit  that 
may  be  assigned,  in  quickness  of  perception  and  truth 
of  judgment ;  and  the  will's  alacrity  to  conform  to  the 
dictates  of  conscience  and  the  decrees  of  reason  will  be 
gradually  heightened,  to  correspond  in  some  due  pro- 
portion with  the  growth  of  intellect.  "  Lord,  wliat  is 
man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him,  or  the  son  of  man, 
that  so  regardest  him  ?  Thou  hast  made  him  lower  than 
the  angels,  to  crown  him  with  glory  and  honour !"  Des- 
titute as  he  is  of  any  original  perfection,  which  is  thy 
sole  prerogative,  who  art  alone  in  all  thy  qualities  origi- 
nal, yet  in  the  faculties  of  which  thou  hast  given  him 
the  free  command  and  use,  and  in  the  power  of  habit 
which  thou  hast  planted  in  the  principles  of  his  system, 
thou  hast  given  him  the  capacity  of  infinite  attainments. 
Weak  and  poor  in  his  beginnings,  what  is  the  height  of 
any  creature's  virtue,  to  which  he  has  not  the  power,  by 
a  slow  and  gradual  ascent,  to  reach  ?  The  improvements 
which  he  shall  make  by  the  vigorous  exertion  of  the 
powers  he  hath  received  from  thee,  thou  permittest  him 
to  call  his  own,  imputing  to  him  the  merit  of  the  acqui- 
sitions which  thou  hast  given  him  the  ability  to  make. 
What,  then,  is  the  consummation  of  man's  goodness, 
but  to  co-operate  with  the  benevolent  purpose  of  his 
Maker,  by  forming  the  habit  of  his  mind  to  a  constant 
ambition  of  improvement,  which,  enlarging  its  appetite 
in  proportion  to  the  acquisitions  already  made,  may  cor- 
respond with  the  increase  of  his  capacities,  in  every 
stage  of  a  progressive  virtue,  in  every  period  of  an  end- 
less existence  ?  And  to  what  purpose  but  to  excite  this 
noble  thirst  of  virtuous  proficiency, — to  what  purpose 
but  to  provide  that  the  object  of  the  appetite  may  never 
be  exhausted  by  gradual  attainment,  hast  thou  imparted 
to  thy  creature's  mind  the  idea  of  thine  own  attribute  of 
perfect  uncreated  goodness  ? 


(    206    } 

But  man,  alas !  hath  abused  thy  gifts ;  and  the  things 
that  should  have  been  for  his  peace  are  become  to  him 
an  occasion  of  faUing.  Unmindful  of  the  height  of  glory 
to  which  he  might  attain,  he  has  set  his  affections  upon 
earthly  things.  The  first  command,  which  was  imposed 
that  he  might  form  himself  to  the  useful  habit  of  implicit 
obedience  to  his  Maker's  will,  a  slight  temptation — the 
fair  show  and  fragrance  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  moved 
him  to  transgress.  From  that  fatal  hour,  error  hath 
seized  his  understanding,  appetite  perverts  his  will,  and 
the  power  of  habit,  intended  for  the  infinite  exaltation 
of  his  nature,  operates  to  his  ruin. 

Man  hath  been  false  to  himself;  but  his  Maker's  love 
hath  not  forsaken  him.  By  early  promises  of  mercy,  by 
Moses  and  the  prophets,  and  at  last  by  his  Son,  God 
calls  his  fallen  creature  to  repentance.  He  hath  pro- 
vided an  atonement  for  past  guilt.  He  promises  the 
effectual  aids  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  to  counteract  the  power 
of  perverted  habit,  to  restore  light  to  the  darkened  un- 
derstanding, to  tame  the  fury  of  inflamed  appetite,  to 
purify  the  soiled  imagination,  and  to  foil  the  grand  De- 
ceiver in  every  new  attempt.  He  calls  us  to  use  our  best 
diligence  to  improve  under  these  advantages ;  and  it  is 
promised  to  the  faithful  and  sincere,  that  by  the  perpetual 
operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  their  minds,  and  by  an 
alteration  which  at  the  general  resurrection  shall  take 
place  in  the  constitution  of  the  body,  they  shall  be  pro- 
moted to  a  degree  of  perfection,  which  by  the  strength 
that  naturally  remains  in  man  in  his  corrupted  state, 
they  never  could  attain.  They  shall  be  raised  above 
the  power  of  temptation,  and  placed  in  a  condition  of 
happiness  not  inferior  to  that  which  by  God's  original 
appointment  might  have  corresponded  with  the  improve- 
ment of  their  moral  state,  had  that  improvement  been 
their  own  attainment,  by  a  gradual  progress  from  the 
first  state  of  innocence.     That  the  devout  and  well-dis- 


(    207    ) 

posed  are  thus  by  God's  power  made  perfect,  is  the  free 
gift  of  God  in  Christ — the  effect  of  undeserved  mercy, 
exercised  in  consideration  of  Christ's  intercession  and 
atonement.  Thus  it  is  that  fallen  man  is  in  Christ  Jesus 
"  created  anew  unto  those  good  works  which  God  had 
before  ordained  that  we  should  walk  in  them."  His  los^ 
capacity  of  improvement  is  restored,  and  the  great  career 
of  virtue  is  again  before  him.  What,  then,  is  the  per- 
fection of  man,  in  this  state  of  redemption,  but  that 
which  might  have  been  Adam's  perfection  in  paradise  ? 
■ — a  desire  of  moral  improvement,  duly  proportioned  to 
his  natural  capacity  of  improving ;  and,  for  that  purpose 
expanding  without  limit,  as  he  rises''  in  the  knowledge  of 
what  is  good,  and  gathers  strength  in  the  practical  habits 
of  it. 

Thus,  you  see,  the  proper  goodness  of  man  consists 
in  gradual  improvement:  and  the  desire  of  improve- 
ment, to  be  truly  perfective  of  his  character,  and  to 
keep  pace  with  the  growth  of  his  moral  capacities,  must 
be  boundless  in  its  energies,  or  capable  of  an  infinite 
enlargement. 

Another  property  requisite  in  this  desire  of  improve- 
ment, to  give  it  its  perfective  quality,  is  that  it  should 
be  disinterested.  Virtue  must  be  desired  for  its  own 
sake, — not  as  subservient  to  any  farther  end,  or  as  the 
means  of  any  greater  good.  It  has  been  thought  an  ob~ 
jection  to  the  morality  of  the  Christian  system,  that  as 
it  teaches  men  to  shun  vice  on  account  of  impending 
punishments,  and  to  cultivate  virtuous  habits  in  the  hope 
of  annexed  rewards,  that  therefore  the  virtue  which  it 
affects  to  teach  it  teaches  not,  teaching  it  upon  mean  and 
selfish  motives.  The  objection  perhaps  may  claim  a 
hearing,  because  it  is  founded  on  principles  which  the 
true  Christian  will  of  ail  men  be  the  last  to  controvert, 
— namely,  that  good  actions,  if  they  aiise  from  anj- 
other  motive  than  the  pure  love  of  doing  good,  or,  which 


(    208     ) 

is  the  same  thing,  from  the  pure  desire  of  pleasing  God, 
lose  all  pretension  to  intrinsic  worth  and  merit.  God 
himself  is  good,  by  the  complacency  which  his  perfect 
nature  finds  in  exertions  of  power  to  the  purposes  of 
goodness ;  and  men  are  no  otherwise  good  than  as  they 
delight  in  virtuous  actions  from  the  bare  apprehension 
that  they  are  good,  without  any  selfish  views  to  advan- 
tageous consequences.  He  that  denies  these  principles 
confounds  the  distinct  ideas  of  the  useful  and  the  fair, 
and  leaves  nothing  remaining  of  genuine  virtue  but  an 
empty  name.  But  our  answer  to  the  adversary  is,  that 
these  are  the  principles  of  Christianity  itself;  for  St. 
Paul  himself  places  the  perfection  of  the  Christian  cha- 
racter in  that  quality  of  disinterested  virtue  which  some 
have  injuriously  supposed  cannot  belong  to  it.  It  may 
seem,  perhaps,  that  the  strictness  and  purity  of  the  pre- 
cepts of  Christianity  rather  heighten  the  objection  than 
remove  it;  that  the  objection,  rightly  understood,  is 
this, — that  the  Christian  system  is  at  variance  with  itself, 
its  precepts  exacting  a  perfection  of  which  the  belief  of 
its  doctrines  must  necessarily  preclude  the  attainment ; 
for  how  is  it  possible  that  a  love  of  virtue  and  religion 
should  be  disinterested,  which,  in  its  most  improved 
state,  is  confessedly  accompanied  widi  the  expectation 
of  an  infinite  reward?  A  little  attention  to  the  nature 
of  the  Christian's  hope— to  the  extent  of  his  knowledge 
of  the  reward  he  seeks,  will  solve  this  difficulty.  It  will 
appear,  that  the  Christian's  desire  of  that  happiness 
which  the  gospel  promises  to  the  virtuous  in  a  future 
life,  that  the  desire  of  this  happiness,  and  the  pure  love 
of  virtue  for  its  own  sake,  paradoxical  as  the  assertion 
may  at  first  seem,  are  inseparably  connected:  for  the 
truth  is,  that  the  Christian's  love  of  virtue  does  not  arise 
from  a  previous  desire  of  the  reward;  but  his  desire  of 
the  reward  arises  from  a  previous  love  of  virtue.  Ob- 
;jervc  that  I  do  not  speak  of  any  love  of  virtue  previous 


{    209    ) 

to  his  conversion  to  Christianity :  but  I  affirm  that  the 
first  and  immediate  effect  of  his  conversion  is  to  inspire 
him  with  the  genuine  love  of  virtue  and  religion;  and 
that  his  desire  of  the  reward  is  a  secondary  and  subor- 
dinate  effect — a  consequence  of  the  love  of  virtue  pre- 
viously formed  in  him :  for,  of  the  nature  of  the  reward 
it  promises,  what  does  the  gospel  discover  to  us  more 
than  this, — that  it  shall  be  great  and  endless,  and  adapted 
to  the  intellectual  endowments  and  moral  qualities  of  the 
human  soul  in  a  state  of  high  improvement  ?— and,  from 
this  general  vi^w  of  it,  as  the  proper  condition  of  the 
virtuous,  it  becomes  the  object  of  the  Christian's  desn-e 
and  his  hope.  "  It  doth  not  yet  appear,"  saith  St.  John, 
"  what  we  shall  be :  but  we  know  that  when  he  shall 
appear  (i.  e.  when  Christ  shall  appear)  we  shall  be  like 
him;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is."  This,  you  see,  is 
our  hope,— to  be  made  like  to  Christ  our  Saviour,  in 
the  blessed  day  cf  his  appearance:  and  "he  that  hath 
this  hope  in  him"— this  general  hope  of  being  trans- 
fx)rmed  into  the  likeness  of  his  glorified  Lord,  of  whose 
glory,  which,  as  he  hath  not  seen,  he  hath  no  distinct 
and  adequate  conception — "  purifies  himself,  as  he  is 
pure."  Of  the  particular  enjoyments  in  which  his  fu- 
ture happiness  will  consist,  the  Christian  is  ignorant. 
The  gospel  describes  them  Ijy  images  only  and  allu- 
sions, which  lead  only  to  this  general  notion,  that  they 
will  be  such  as  to  give  entire  satisfaction  to  all  desires  of 
a  virtuous  soul.  Our  opinion  of  their  value  is  founded 
on  a  sense  of  the  excellence  of  virtue,  and  on  failh  in 
God  as  the  protector  of  the  virtuous.  The  Christian 
gives  a  preference  to  that  particular  kind  of  happiness  to 
which  a  life  of  virtue  and  religion  leads,  in.  the  general 
pc'suasion,  that  of  all  possible  happiness  that  must  be 
the  greatest  which  so  good  a  being  as  God  hath  annexed 
to  so  excellent  a  thing  in  the  creature  as  the  shadow 
of  his  own  perfections.     But  the  mind,  to  be  suscep. 


(    210    ) 

lible  of  this  persuasion,  must  be  previously  possessed 
with  an  esteem  and  love  of  virtue,  and  with  just  appre- 
hensions of  God's  perfections :  and  the  desire  of  the 
reward  can  never  divest  the  mind  of  that  disinterested 
love  of  God  and  goodness  on  which  it  is  itself  founded; 
nor  can  it  assume  the  relation  of  a  cause  to  that  of  which 
it  is  itself  the  eifect.  It  appears,  therefore,  that  the 
Christian's  love  of  goodness — his  desire  of  virtuous  at- 
tainments, is,  in  the  strict  and  literal  meaning  of  the 
word,  disinterested,  notwithstanding  the  magnitude  of 
the  reward  which  is  the  object  of  his  hope.  The  mag- 
nitude of  that  reward  is  an  object  of  faith,  not  of  sense 
or  knowledge ;  and  it  is  commended  to  his  faith,  by  his 
just  sense  of  the  importance  of  the  attainments  to  which 
it  is  promised. 

If  anj^  one  imagines  he  can  be  actuated  by  principles 
more  disinterested  than  these,  he  forgets  that  he  is  a 
man  and  not  a  god.  Happiness  must  be  a  constant  ob- 
ject of  desire  and  pursuit  to  every  intelligent  being, — 
that  is,  to  every  being,  who,  besides  the  actual  per- 
ception of  present  pleasure  and  present  pain,  hath  the 
power  of  forming  general  ideas  of  happiness  and  misery 
as  distinct  states  arising  from  different  causes.  Every 
being  that  hath  this  degree  of  intelligence  is  under  the 
government  of  final  causes;  and  the  advancement  of 
his  own  happiness,  if  it  be  not  already  entire  and  se- 
cure, must  be  an  end.  It  is  impossible,  therefore,  that 
any  rational  agent,  unless  he  be  either  sufficient  to  his 
own  happiness,  which  is  the  prerogative  of  God,  or 
hath  some  certain  assurance  that  his  condition  will  not 
be  altered  for  the  worse,  which  will  hereafter  be  the 
glorious  privilege  of  the  saints  who  overcome, — but 
without  this  prerogative  or  this  privilege,  it  is  impos- 
sible that  any  rational  being  should  be  altogether  uncon- 
cerned about  the  consequences  of  his  moral  conduct, 
as  they  may  affect  his  own  condition.     In  the  present 


X    211    ) 

life,  the  advantages  are  not  on  the  side  of  virtue :  all 
comes  alike  to  all — "  to  him  that  sacrificeth  and  him 
that  sacrificeth  not— to  him  that  sweareth  and  to  him 
that  feareth  an  oath:"  and  if  a  constitution  of  things 
were  to  continue  for  ever,  in  which  virtue  should  labour 
under  disadvantages,  man  might  still  have  the  Virtue  to 
regret  that  virtue  was  not  made  for  him ;  but  discretion 
must  be  his  ruling  principle ;  and  discretion,  in  this  state 
of  things,  could  propose  no  end  but  immediate  pleasure 
and  present  interest.  The  gospel,  extending  our  views 
to  a  future  period  of  existence,  delivers  the  believer 
from  the  uneasy  apprehension  that  interest  and  duty 
may  possibly  be  at  variance.  It  delivers  him  from  that 
distrust  of  Providence,  which  the  present  face  of  things, 
without  some  certain  prospect  of  futurity,  would  be  too 
apt  to  create ;  and  sets  him  at  liberty  to  pursue  virtue, 
with  all  that  ardour  of  affection  which  its  native  wortli 
may  claim,  and  gi-atitude  to  God  liis  Maker  and  Re- 
deemer may  excite. 

It  is  true,  the  alternative  which  the  gospel  holds  out  is 
endless  happiness  in  heaven  or  endless  suffering  in  hell ; 
and  the  view  of  this  alternative  may  well  be  supposed  to 
operate  to  a  ceitain  degree  on  base  and  sordid  minds, — ■ 
on  those  who,  without  any  sense  of  virtue,  or  any  pre- 
ference of  its  proper  enjoyments  as  naturally  the  greatest 
good,  make  no  other  choice  of  heaven  than  as  the  least 
of  two  great  evils.  To  be  deprived  of  sensual  gratifi- 
cations, they  hold  to  be  an  evil  of  no  moderate  size,  to 
which  they  must  submit  in  heaven ;  but  yet  they  con- 
cci%e  of  this  absence  of  pleasure  as  more  tolerable  than 
positive  torment,  which  they  justly  apprehend  those 
who  are  excluded  from  heaven  must  undergo  in,  the 
place  of  punishment.  On  minds  thus  depraved,  the  view 
of  the  alternative  of  endless  happiness  or  cndicss  misery 
was  intended  to  operate ;  and  it  is  an  argument  of  God's 
f;-2 


(    212    ) 

wonderful  mercy,  that  he  has  been  pleased  to  display 
such  prospects  of  futurity  as  may  affect  the  human  mind 
in  its  most  cornipt  and  hardened  state, — ^that  men  in 
this  unworthy  state,  in  this  state  of  enmity  with  God, 
are  yet  the  objects  of  his  care  and  pity, — that  "  he 
willeth  not  the  death  of  a  sinner,  but  that  the  sinner 
should  turn  from  his  way  and  live."  But,  to  imagine 
that  any  one  whom  the  warnings  of  the  gospel  may  no 
otherwise  aftect  than  with  the  dread  of  the  punishment 
of  sin, — that  any  one  in  whom  they  may  work  only  a 
reluctant  choice  of  heaven  as  eligible  only  in  comparison 
with  a  state  of  torment,  does,  merely  in  those  feelings, 
or  by  a  certain  pusillanimity  in  vice,  which  is  the  most 
those  feelings  can  affect,  satisfy  the  duties  of  the  Chris- 
tian calling, — to  imagine  this,  is  a  strange  misconcep- 
tion of  the  whole  scheme  of  Christianity.  The  utmost 
good  to  be  expected  from  the  principle  of  fear  is,  that  it 
may  induce  a  state  of  mind  in  which  better  principles 
may  take  effect.  It  may  bring  the  sinner  to  hesitate  be- 
tween self-denial  here  with  heaven  in  reversion,  and  gra- 
tification here  with  future  sufferings.  In  this  state  of 
ambiguity,  the  mind  deliberates :  while  the  mind  deli- 
berates, appetite  and  passion  intermit :  while  they  inter- 
mit,  conscience  and  reason  energize.  Conscience  con- 
ceives the  idea  of  the  moral  good :  reason  contemplates 
the  new  and  lovely  image  with  delight ;  she  becomes  the 
willing  pupil  of  religion ;  she  learns  to  discern  in  each 
(.  reated  thing  the  print  of  sovereign  goodness,  and  in  the 
attributes  of  God  descries  its  iirst  and  perfect  form. 
New  views  and  new  desires  occupy  the  soul.  Virtue  is 
understood  to  be  the  resemblance  of  God :  his  resem- 
blance is  coveted,  as  the  highest  attainment :  heaven  is 
desired,  as  tlie  condition  of  those  who  resemble  him;  and 
the  intoxicating  cup  of  pleasure  is  refused, — not  that  the 
mortal  ^nlnte  mif'ht  not  find  it  sweet,  but  because  vice 


{  213  ; 

presents  it.  When  the  habit  of  the  mind  is  formed  ti) 
these  views  and  these  sentiments,  then,  and  not  before, 
the  Christian  character,  in  the  judgment  of  St.  Paul,  is 
perfect;  and  the  perfective  quality  of  this  disposition 
of  the  mind  lies  principally  in  this  circumstance,  that 
it  is  a  disinterested  love  of  virtue  and  religion  as  the 
chief  object.  The  disposition  is  not  the  less  valuable 
nor  the  less  good,  when  it  is  once  formed,  because  it  is 
the  last  stage  of  a  gradual  progress  of  the  mind  which 
may  too  often  perhaps  begin  in  nothing  better  than  a 
sense  of  guilt  and  a  just  fear  of  punishment.  The 
sweetness  of  the  ripened  fruit  is  not  the  less  delicious 
for  the  austerity  of  its  cruder  state :  nor  is  this  Christian 
righteousness  to  be  despised,  if,  amid  the  various  temp- 
tations of  the  world,  a  sense  of  the  danger,  as  well  as 
the  turpitude  of  a  life  of  sin,  should  be  necessary  not 
only  to  its  beginning  but  to  its  permanency.  The 
whole  of  our  present  life  is  but  the  childhood  of  our 
existence:  and  children  are  not  to  be  trained  to  the 
wisdom  and  virtues  of  men  without  more  or  less  of  a 
compulsive  discipline ;  at  the  same  time  that  perfection 
must  be  confessed  to  consist  in  that  pure  love  of  God 
and  of  his  law  which  casteth  out  fear. 

We  have  now  seen,  that  the  perfective  quality  which 
the  apostle  ascribes  to  the  Christian's  desire  of  im- 
provement consists  much  in  these  two  properties, — 
that  it  is  boundless  in  its  energies,  and  disinterested 
in  its  object.  A  third  renders  it  complete;  which  is 
this, — that  this  appetite  of  the  mind  (for  such  it  may 
be  called,  although  insatiable,  and,  in  the  strictest  sense 
of  the  word,  disinterested)  is  nevertheless  rational ;  in.^ 
asmuch  as  its  origin  is  entirely  in  the  understanding, 
and  personal  good,  though  not  its  object,  is  rendered  by 
the  appointment  of  Providence,  and  by  the  promises  of 
the  gospel,  its  certain  consequence.    Upon  the  whole. 


(    214    ) 

it  appears  that  tlie  perfection  of  the  Christian  cliaracter, 
as  it  is  described  by  the  apostle,  consists  in  that  which 
is  the  natural  perfection  of  the  man, — in  a  principle 
which  brings  every  thought  and  desire  of  the  mind  into 
an  entire  subjection  to  the  will  of  God,  rendering  a  reli- 
gious course  of  life  a  matter  of  choice  no  less  than  of 
duty  and  interest. 


SERMON    XXIX. 


Daniel  iv,  17. 


This  matter  is  by  the  decree  of  the  Watchers,  and  the 
demand  by  the  word  of  the  Holy  Ones;  to  the  intent 
that  the  living  may  know  that  the  Most  High  ruleth  in 
the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to  whomsoever  he 
will,  and  setteth  up  over  it  the  basest  of  meiu^ 


1  HE  matter  which  the  text  refers  to  the  "  decree  of 
the  Watchers,"  and  "  the  demand  of  the  Holy  Ones," 
is  the  judgment  which,  after  no  long  time,  was  about  to 
fall  upon  Nebuchadnezzar,  the  great  king  of  whom  wc 
read  so  much  in  history,  sacred  and  profane.  His  con- 
quest  of  the  Jewish  nation,  though  a  great  event  in  the 
history  of  the  church,  was  but  a  small  part  of  this  prince's 
story.  The  kingdom  of  Babylon  came  to  him  by  inhe- 
ritance from  his  father.  Upon  his  accession,  he  made 
himself  master  of  all  the  rest  of  the  Assyrian  empire ;  and 
to  these  vast  dominions  he  added,  by  a  long  series  of 
wars  of  unparalleled  success,  the  whole  of  that  immense 
track  of  country  which  extends  from  the  banks  of  the 
Euphrates  westward  to  the  sea-coasts  of  Palestine  and 
Phoenicia  and  the  border  of  Egypt.  Nor  was  he  more 
renowned  in  war  than  justly  admired  in  peace,  for  public 


*  Preached  in  the  Cathedral  Church  of  St.  Asnph,  on  Thursday,  December  5, 
1805;  being  the  day  of  public  thanksgiving  for  the  victory  obtained  by  Admiral 
Lord  Viscount  Nels«n,  over  the  combined  fleets  of  France  and  Spain,  oft'  Ca|).fc. 
Trafalgar.  ' 


(    216    ) 

works  of  the  highest  utihty  and  magnificence.    To  him 
the  famous  city  of  Babylon  owed  whatever  it  possessed 
of  strength,  of  beauty,  or  convenience, — its  sohd  walls 
with  their  hundred  gates,  immense  in  circuit,  height, 
and  thickness — its  stately  temple  and  its  proud  palace, 
with  the  hanging  gardens — its  regular  streets  and  spa- 
cious squares — the  embankments,  which  confined  the 
river- — the  canals,  which  carried  off  the  floods — and  the 
vast  reservoir,  which  in  seasons  of  drought  (for  to  the 
vicissitudes  of  immoderate  rains  and  drought  the  climate 
was  liable)  supplied  the  city  and  the  adjacent  country 
with  water.    In  a  word,  for  the  extent  of  his  dominion, 
and  the  great  revenues  it  supplied — for  his  unrivalled 
success  in  war — for  the  magnificence  and  splendour  of 
his  court — and  for  his  stupendous  works  and  improve- 
ments at  Babylon,   he  was  the  greatest  monarch,  not 
only  of  his  own  times,  but  incomparably  the  greatest 
the  world  had  ever  seen,   without   exception  even  of 
those  whose  names  are  remembered  as  the  first  civili- 
zers  of  mankind — the  Egyptian  Sesostris  and  the  Indian 
Bacchus.    But  great  as  this  prince's  talents  and  endow- 
ments must  have  been,  his  uninterrupted  and  unexam- 
pled prosperity  was  too  much  for  the  digestion  of  his 
mind.    His  heart  grew  vain  in  the  contemplation  of  his 
grandeur :  he  forgot  that  he  was  a  man ;  and  he  aifected 
divine  honours.    His  impious  pride  received  indeed  a 
check,  by  the  miraculous  deliverance  of  the  three  faith- 
ful Jews  from  the  furnace  to  which  they  had  been  con- 
demned.    His  mind  at  first  was  much  affected  by  the 
miracle ;  but  the  impression  in  time  wore  off,  and  the 
intoxication  of  power  and  prosperity  returned  upon  him. 
God  was  therefore  pleased  to  humble  him,  and  to  make 
him  an  example  to  the  world  and  to  himself,  of  the 
frailty  of  all  human  power — the  instability  of  all  human 
greatness.    I  say,  an  example  to  the  world  and  to  khn- 
sclf;  for  it  is  very  remarkable,  that  the  king's  own  con- 


(    217    ) 

version  was  in  part  an  object  of  the  judgment  inflicted 
upon  him :  and,  notwithstanding  what  has  been  said  to 
the  contrary,  upon  no  ground  at  all,  by  a  foreign  com- 
mentator of  great  name,  it  is  evident,  from  the  sacred 
history,  that  object  was  accomplished;  and  it  was  in 
order  to  the  accomplishment  of  it  that  the  king  had 
warning  of  the  impending  visitation  in  a  dream.  That 
a  dispensation  of  judgment  should  be  tempered  with 
such  signal  mercy  to  a  heathen  prince,  not,  like  Cyrus, 
eminent  for  his  virtues,  however  distinguished  by  his 
talents,  is  perhaps  in  some  degree  to  be  put  to  the  ac- 
count of  the  favour  he  showed  to  many  of  the  Jews  his 
captives,  and  in  particular  to  his  constant  patronage  of 
the  prophet  Daniel.  At  a  time  when  there  was  nothing 
in  his  situation  to  fill  his  mind  with  gloomy  thoughts, 
"  for  he  was  at  rest  in  his  house,  and  flourishing  in  his 
palace,"  he  saw  in  a  dream  a  tree  strong  and  flourishing: 
its  summit  pierced  the  clouds,  and  its  branches  over- 
shadowed the  whole  extent  of  his  vast  dominions :  it 
was  laden  with  fruit,  and  luxuriant  in  its  foliage:  the 
cattle  reposed  in  its  shade,  and  the  fowls  of  the  air 
lodged  in  its  branches;  and  multitudes  partook  of  its 
delicious  fruit.  But  the  king  saw  a  celestial  being,  a 
Watcher  and  a  Holy  One,  come  down  from  heaven; 
and  heard  him  give  order  with  a  loud  voice,  that  the 
tree  should  be  hewn  down,  its  branches  lopped  off",  and 
its  fruit  scattered,  and  nothing  left  of  it  but  "  the  stump 
of  its  roots  in  the  earth,"  which  was  to  be  secured,  how- 
ever, with  a  "  band  of  iron  and  brass,  in  the  tender 
grass  of  the  field."  Words  of  menace  follow,  which 
;\re  applicable  only  to  a  man,  and  plainly  show  that  the 
whole  vision  was  typical  of  some  dreadful  calamitj',  to 
fell  for  a  time,  but  for  a  time  only,  on  some  one  of  the 
sons  of  men. 

The  interpretation  of  this  dream  was  beyond  the  skill 
of  all  the  wise  men  of  tlie  kingdom.    Daniel  was  called. 


(    218    ) 

who,  by  the  interpretation  of  a  former  dream,  which 
had  been  too  hard  for  the  Chaldeans  and  the  Magi,  and 
for  the  professed  diviners  of  all  denominations,  had  ac- 
quired great  credit  and  favour  with  the  king ;  and  before 
this  time  had  been  promoted  to  the  highest  offices  in  the 
state,  and,  amongst  others,  to  that  of  president  of  the 
college  of  the  Magi.  Daniel  told  the  king,  that  the  tree 
which  he  had  seen  so  strong  and  flourishing  was  him- 
self,-—that  the  hewing  down  of  the  tree  was  a  dreadful 
calamity  that  should  befal  him,  and  continue  till  he 
should  be  brought  to  know  "  that  the  Most  High  ruleth 
in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to  whomsoever  he 
will." 

Strange  as  it  must  seem,  notwithstanding  Daniel's 
weight  and  credit  with  the  king — notwithstanding  the 
consternation  of  mind  into  which  the  dream  had  thrown 
him,  this  warning  had  no  permanent  effect.  He  was 
not  cured  of  his  overweening  pride  and  vanity,  till  he 
was  overtaken  by  the  threatened  judgment.  "  At  the 
end  of  twelve  months,  he  was  ^valking  in  the  palace  of 
the  kingdom  of  Babylon," — probably  on  the  flat  roof  of 
the  building,  or  perhaps  on  one  of  the  highest  terraces 
of  the  hanging  gardens,  where  the  whole  city  would  lie 
in  prospect  before  him ;  and  he  said,  in  the  exultation  of 
his  heart,  "  Is  not  this  great  Babylon,  which  I  have  built 
for  the  seat  of  empire,  by  the  miglit  of  my  power,  and 
for  the  honour  of  my  majesty  ?"  The  words  had  scarcely 
passed  his  lips,  when  "  the  might  of  his  pov/er  and  the 
honour  of  his  majesty"  departed  from  him.  The  same 
Aoice  whicii  in  the  dream  had  predicted  the  judgment, 
now  denounced  the  impending  execution ;  and  the  voice 
bad  no  sooner  ceased  to  speak  than  the  thing  was  done. 

This  is  "  the  matter," — this  judgment,  thus  predicted 
and  thus  executed,  is  the  matter  which  the  text  refers  to 
"  the  decree  of  the  Watchers"  and  "  the  word  of  the: 
Holy  Oiics."     "  The  matter  is  bv  the  decree  of  the 


(    ^19    ) 

Watchers,  and  the  requisition  is  by  the  word  of  the 
Holy  Ones;"  and  the  intent  of  the  matter  is  to  give 
mankind  a  proof,  in  the  fall  and  restoration  of  this 
mighty  monarch,  that  the  fortunes  of  kings  and  empires 
are  in  the  hand  of  God,^-that  his  providence  perpetually 
interposes  in  the  affairs  of  men,  distributing  crowns  and 
sceptres,  always  for  the  good  of  the  faithful  primarily, 
ultimately  of  his  whole  creation,  but  according  to  his 
wilK 

To  apprehend  righdy  how  the  judgttient  upon  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, originating,  as  it  is  represented  in  the  text, 
in  the  "  decree  of  the  Watchers,  and  in  the  word  of  the 
Holy  Ones,"  affords  an  instance  of  the  immediate  inter- 
ference of  God's  providence  in  the  affairs  of  men,  it  is 
very  necessary  that  the  text  should  be  better  than  it  ge- 
nerally has  been  hitherto  understood :  and  the  text  never 
can  be  rightly  understood,  until  we  ascertain  who  they 
are,  and  to  xvhat  class  of  beings  they  belong,  who  are 
called  "  the  Watchers"  and  "  the  Holy  Ones;"  for,  ac- 
cording as  these  terms  are  differently  expounded,  the 
text  will  lead  to  very  different,  indeed  to  opposite  con- 
clusions,— to  true  conclusions,  if  these  terms  are  righdy 
understood- — to  most  false  and  dangerous  conclusions,  if 
they  are  ill  interpreted. 

I  am  ashamed  to  say,  that  if  you  consult  very  pious 
and  very  learned  commentators,  justly  esteemed  for  their 
illustrations  of  the  Bible  generally,  you  will  be  told  these 
"  Watchers"  and  '*  Holy  Ones"  are  angels, — principal 
angels,  of  a  very  high  order,  they  are  pleased  to  say, 
such  as  are  in  constant  attendance  upon  the  throne  of 
God.  And  so  much  skill  have  some  of  these  good  and 
learned  men  affected  in  the  heraldry  of  angels,  that  they 
pretend  to  distinguish  the  different  rank  of  the  different 
denominations.  The  "  Watchers,"  they  say,  are  of  the 
highest  rank ;  the  "  Holy  Ones,"  very  high  in  rank,  buL 
inferior  to  the  "  Watchers:"  and  the  angels  are  intro- 
53 


(     220     ) 

duced  upon  this  occasion,  they  say,  in  allu^on  to  the 
proceedings  of  earthly  princes,  who  pubHsh  their  decrees 
with  the  advice  of  their  chief  ministers. 

This  interpretation  of  these  words  is  founded  upon  a 
notion  which  got  ground  in  the  Christian  church  many 
ages  since,  and  unfortunately  is  not  yet  exploded;  namely, 
that  God's  government  of  this  lower  world  is  carried  on 
by  the  administration  of  the  holy  angels,  that  the  differ- 
ent orders  (and  those  who  broached  this  doctrine  could 
tell  us  exactly  how  many  orders  there  are,  and  how 
many  angels  in  each  order) — that  the  different  orders 
have  their  different  departments  in  government  assigned 
to  them :  some,  constantly  attending  in  the  presence  of 
God,  form  his  cabinet  council ;  others  are  his  provincial 
governors ;  every  kingdom  in  the  world  having  its  ap- 
pointed guardian  angel,  to  whose  management  it  is  in- 
trusted :  others  again  are  supposed  to  have  the  charge 
and  custody  of  individuals.  This  system  is  in  truth 
nothing  better  than  the  Pagan  polytheism,  somewhat 
disguised  and  qualified ;  for,  in  the  Pagan  system,  every 
nation  had  its  tutelar  deity,  all  subordinate  to  Jupiter, 
the  sire  of  gods  and  men.  Some  of  those  prodigies  of 
ignorance  and  folly,  the  rabbin  of  the  Jews  who  lived 
since  the  dispersion  of  the  nation,  thought  all  would  be 
well  if  for  tutelar  deities  they  substituted  tutelar  an- 
gels. From  this  substitution  the  system  which  I  have 
described  arose ;  and  from  the  Jews,  the  Christians,  with 
other  fooleries,  adopted  it.  But,  by  whatever  name 
these  deputy  gods  be  called, — whether  you  call  them 
gods,  or  demigods,  or  daemons,  or  genii,  or  heroes,  or 
angels, — the  difference  is  only  in  the  name ;  the  thing  in 
substance  is  the  same :  they  still  are  deputies,  invested 
with  a  subordinate,  indeed,  but  with  an  high  authority, 
in  the  exercise  of  which  they  are  much  at  liberty,  and 
at  their  ov\  n  discretion.  If  this  opinion  were  true,  it 
■Yould  be  difficult  to  show  that  the  heathen  were  much 


(    221    ) 

to  blame  in  the  worship  which  they  rendered  to  them. 
The  officers  of  any  great  king  are  entitled  to  homage  and 
respect  in  proportion  to  the  authority  committed  to 
them;  and  the  grant  of  the  power  is  a  legal  title  to  such 
respect.  These  officers,  therefore,  of  the  greatest  of  kings^ 
will  be  entitled  to  the  greatest  reverence ;  and  as  the  go- 
vernor of  a  distant  province  will,  in  many  cases,  be 
more  an  object  of  awe  and  veneration  to  the  inhabitants 
than  the  monarch  himself,  with  whom  they  have  no  im- 
mediate connection,  so  the  tutelar  deity  or  angel  will, 
with  those  who  are  put  under  him,  supersede  the  Lord 
of  all :  and  the  heathen,  who  worshipped  those  who 
were  supposed  to  have  the  power  over  them,  were  cer- 
tainly more  consistent  with  themselves  than  they  who 
acknowledging  the  power  withhold  the  worship. 

So  nearly  allied  to  idolatry- — or  rather  so  much  the 
same  thing  with  polytheism,  is  this  notion  of  the  admi- 
nistration of  God's  government  by  the  authority  of  an- 
gels. And  surely  it  is  strange,  that,  in  this  age  of  light 
and  learning,  Protestant  divines  should  be  heard  to  say 
that  "  this  doctrine  seems  to  be  countenanced  by  several 
passages  of  Scripture." 

That  the  holy  angels  are  often  employed  by  God,  in 
his  government  of  this  sublunary  world,  is  indeed  clearly 
to  be  proved  by  holy  writ :  that  they  have  powers  over 
the  matter  of  the  universe,  analogous  to  the  powers  over 
it  which  men  possess,  greater  in  extent,  but  still  limited, 
is  a  thing  which  might  reasonably  be  supposed,  if  it 
were  not  declared;  but  it  seems  to  be  confirmed  by 
many  passages  of  holy  writ,  from  which  it  seems  also 
evident  that  they  are  occasionally,  for  certain  specific 
purposes,  commissioned  to  exercise  those  powers  to  a 
prescribed  extent.  That  the  evil  angels  possessed  before 
their  fall  the  like  powers,  which  they  are  still  occasion- 
ally permitted  to  exercise  for  the  punishment  of  wicked 
nations,  seems  also  evident.     That  they  have  a  power 


(     222    ) 

over  the  human  sensory  (which  is  part  of  the  material 
universe),  which  they  are  occasionally  permitted  to  ex- 
ercise, by  means  of  which  they  may  inflict  diseases, 
suggest  evil  thoughts,  and  be  the  instruments  of  tempta- 
tions, must  also  be  admitted.  But  all  this  amounts  not 
to  any  thing  of  a  discretional  authority  placed  in  the 
hands  of  tutelar  angels,  or  to  an  authority  to  advise  the 
Lord  God  with  respect  to  the  measures  of  his  govern- 
ment. Confidently  I  deny  that  a  single  text  is  to  be 
found  in  holy  writ,  which,  rightly  understood,  gives  the 
least  countenance  to  the  abominable  doctrine  of  such  a 
parti<:ipation  of  the  holy  angels  in  God's  government  of 
the  world. 

In  what  manner,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  are  the  holy 
angels  made  at  all  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  God's 
government  ?— -This  question  is  answered  by  St.  Paul, 
in  his  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in  the  last  verse  of  the 
first  chapter :  and  this  is  the  only  passage  in  the  whole 
Bible  in  which  we  have  any  thing  explicit  upon  the 
office  and  employment  of  angels.  "  Are  they  not  all," 
saith  he,  "  ministering  spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  for 
them  that  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation?"  They  are  all, 
however  high  in  rank  and  order,- — they  are  all  nothing 
more  than  "  ministering  spirits,"  or  literally,  "  serving 
spirits;"  not  invested  with  authority  of  their  own,  but 
*•  sent  forth" — occasionally  sent  forth  to  do  such  service 
as  may  be  required  of  tliem,  "  for  them  that  shall  be 
heirs  of  salvation."  This  text  is  the  conclusion  of  the 
comparison  which  the  apostle  institutes  between  the  Son 
of  God  and  the  holy  angels,  in  order  to  prove  the  great 
superiority  in  rank  and  nature  of  the  Son :  and  the  most 
that  can  be  made  of  angels  is,  that  they  are  servants, 
occasionally  employed  by  the  Most  High  God  to  do  his 
errands  for  the  elect. 

An  accurate  discussion  Of  all  the  passages  of  Scripture 
which  have  been  supposed  to  flwour  the  contrary  opi- 


(     223     ) 

nion,  would  much  exceed  the  just  limits  of  this  dis- 
course :  I  shall  only  say  of  them  generally,  that  they  arc 
all  abused  texts,  wrested  to  a  sense  which  never  would 
have  been  dreamed  of  in  any  one  of  them,  had  not  the 
opinion  of  the  government  of  angels  previously  taken 
hold  of  the  minds  of  too  many  of  the  learned.  In  the 
consideration  of  particular  texts  so  misinterpreted,  I 
shall  confine  myself  to  such  as  occur  in  the  prophet 
Daniel,  from  whose  writings  this  monstrous  doctrine 
has  been  supposed  to  have  received  great  support;  and 
of  these  I  shall  consider  my  text  last  of  all. 

In  the  prophet  Daniel,  we  read  of  the  angel  Gabriel 
by  name,  who,  together  with  others  unnamed,  is  em- 
ployed to  exhibit  visions  typical  of  future  events  to  the 
prophet,  and  to  expound  them  to  him :  but  there  is  no- 
thing in  this  employment  of  Gabriel  and  his  associates 
which  has  the  most  remote  connection  with  the  supposed 
office  of  guardian  angels  either  of  nations  and  states,  or 
of  individuals. 

We  read  of  another  personage  superior  to  Gabriel, 
who  is  named  Michael.  This  personage  is  superior  to 
Gabriel,  for  he  comes  to  help  him  in  the  greatest  diffi- 
culties ;  and  Gabriel,  the  servant  of  the  Most  High  God 
declares  that  this  Michael  is  the  only  supporter  he  has. 
This  is  well  to  be  noted.  Gabriel,  one  of  God's  minis- 
tering spirits,  sent  forth,  as  such  spirits  are  used  to  be, 
to  minister  for  the  elect  people  of  God,  has  no  supporter 
in  this  business  but  Michael.  This  great  personage  has 
been  long  distinguished  in  our  calendars  by  the  title  of 
*'  Michael  the  archangel."  It  has  been  for  a  long  time  a 
fashion  in  the  church  to  speak  very  frequently  and  fa- 
miliarly of  archangels,  as  if  they  were  an  order  of  beings 
with  which  we  are  perfectly  well  acquainted.  Some 
say  there  are  seven  of  them.  Upon  what  solid  ground 
that  assertion  stands,  I  know  not :  but  this  I  know,  that 
the  wc^rd  "  archangel"  is  not  to  be  found  \n  any  one 


(     224     ) 

passage  of  the  Old  Testament.  In  the  New  Testament, 
the  word  occurs  twice,  and  only  twice.  One  of  the  two 
passages  is  in  the  first  epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  where 
the  apostle,  among  the  circumstances  of  the  pomp  of 
our  Lord's  descent  from  heaven,  to  the  final  judgment, 
mentions  "  the  %-oice  of  the  archangel."  The  other  pas- 
sage is  in  the  epistle  of  St.  Jude,  where  the  title  of  arch- 
angel is  coupled  with  tiie  name  of  Michael — "  Michael 
the  archangel."  This  passage  is  so  remarkably  obscure, 
that  I  shall  not  attempt  to  draw  any  conclusion  from  it 
but  this,  which  manifestly  follows,  be  the  particular 
sense  of  the  passage  what  it  may :  since  this  is  one  of 
two  texts  in  which  alone  the  word  "  archangel"  is  found 
in  the  whole  Bible, — since  in  this  one  text  only  the  title 
of  archangel  is  coupled  with  any  name, — and  since  the 
name  with  which  it  is  here  coupled  is  Michael,  it  fol- 
lows undeniably  that  the  archangel  Michael  is  the  only 
archangel  of  whom  we  know  any  thing  from  holy  writ. 
It  cannot  be  proved  from  holy  writ — and  if  not  from  holy 
writ,  it  cannot  be  proved  at  all,  that  any  archangel  exists 
but  the  one  archangel  Michael ;  and  this  one  archangel 
Michael  is  unquestionably  the  Michael  of  the  book  of 
Daniel. 

I  must  observe,  by  the  way,  with  respect  to  the  im- 
port of  the  title  of  archangel,  that  the  word,  by  its  ety- 
mology, clearly  implies  a  superiority  of  rank  and  au- 
thority in  the  person  to  whom  it  is  applied.  It  implies  a 
command  over  angels ;  and  this  is  all  that  the  word  of 
necessity  implies.  But  it  follows  not,  by  any  sound 
rule  of  argument,  that  because  no  other  superiority  than 
that  of  rank  and  authority  is  implied  in  the  title,  no 
other  belongs  to  the  person  distinguished  by  the  title, 
and  that  he  is  in  all  other  respects  a  mere  angel.  Since 
we  admit  various  orders  of  intelligent  beings,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  a  being  highly  above  the  angelic  order  may 
command  angels. 


(    225     ) 

To  ascertain,  if  we  can,  to  what  order  of  beings  the 
archangel  Michael  may  belong,  let  us  see  how  he  is 
described  by  the  prophet  Daniel,  who  never  describes 
him  by  that  title ;  and  what  action  is  attributed  to  him 
in  the  book  of  Daniel,  and  in  another  book,  in  which 
he  bears  a  very  principal  part. 

Now  Daniel  calls  him  "  one  of  the  chief  princes,"  or 
"  one  of  the  capital  princes,"  or  "  one  of  the  princes  that 
are  at  the  head  of  all :"  for  this  I  maintain  to  be  the  full  and 
not  more  than  the  full  import  of  the  Hebrew  words.  Now, 
since  we  are  clearly  got  above  the  earth,  into  the  order  of 
celestials,  who  are  the  princes  that  ^rejirst,  or  at  the  head 

cf  all? are  they  any  other  than  the  Three  Persons  in 

the  Godhead?  Michael  therefore  is  one  of  them;  but 
which  of  them?  This  is  not  left  in  doubt.  Gabriel, 
speaking  of  him  to  Daniel,  calls  him  "  Michael  your 
prince,"  and  "  the  great  prince  which  standeth  for  the 
children  of  thy  people ;"  that  is,  not  for  the  nation  of 
the  Jews  in  particular,  but  for  the  children,  the  spiritual 
children  of  that  holy  seed  the  elect  people  of  God,— a 
description  which  applies  particularly  to  the  Son  of  God, 
and  to  no  one  else.  And  in  perfect  consistence  with 
this  description  of  Michael  in  the  book  of  Daniel,  is  the 
action  assigned  to  him  in  the  Apocalypse,  in  which  we 
find  him  fighting  with  the  Old  Serpent,  the  deceiver  of 
the  vvorld,  and  victorious  in  the  combat.  That  conibat 
who  was  to  maintain, — in  that  combat  who  was  to  be 
victorious,  but  the  seed  of  the  woman?  From  all  this 
it  is  evident,  that  Michael  is  a  name  for  our  Lord  him- 
self, in  his  particular  character  of  the  champion  of  his 
faithful  people,  against  the  violence  of  the  apostate  fac- 
tion and  the  wiles  of  the  Devil.  In  this  point  I  have 
tjie  good  fortune  to  have  a  host  of  the  learned  on  my 
side ;  and  the  thing  will  be  fiirther  evident  from  what  is 
yet  to  come.  ^ 

We  have  as'  yet  had  hnt  poor  success  in  our  ^^earch 


(    226     } 

for  guardian  angels,  or  for  angels  of  the  cabinet,  in  the 
book  of  Daniel ;  but  there  are  a  sort  of  persons  men- 
tioned in  it  whom  we  have  not  yet  considered, — namely, 
those  who  are  called  "  the  princes  of  Persia  and  of 
Graecia."  As  these  princes  personally  oppose  the  angel 
Gabriel,  and  Michael  his  supporter,  I  can  hardly  agree 
with  those  who  have  taken  them  for  princes  in  the  literal 
acceptation  of  the  word,— that  is,  for  men  reigning  in 
those  countries.  But  if  that  interpretation  could  be 
established,  these  princes  would  not  be  angels  of  any 
sort ;  and  my  present  argument  would  have  no  concern 
with  them.  If  they  are  beings  of  the  angelic  order,  they 
must  be  evil  angels ;  for  good  angels  would  not  oppose 
and  resist  the  great  prince  Michael,  and  his  angel  Ga- 
briel. If  they  were  evil  angels,  they  could  not  be  tutelar 
angels  of  Persia  and  of  Grgecia  respectively,  or  of  any 
other  country.  But  to  come  directly  to  the  point :  since 
they  light  with  Michael,  to  those  who  are  conversant 
with  the  prophetic  style,  and  have  observed  the  unifor- 
mity of  its  images,  it  will  seem  highly  probable  that  the 
angels  which  fight  with  Michael  in  the  book  of  Daniel 
are  of  the  same  sort  with  those  who  fight  with  Michael, 
under  the  banners  of  the  Devil,  in  the  twelfth  chapter 
of  the  Apocalypse.  "  There  was  war  in  heaven.  Mi- 
chael and  his  angels  fought  with  the  Dragon ;  and  the 
Dragon  fought  and  his  angels."  The  vision  of  the  war 
in  heaven,  in  the  Apocalypse,  represents  the  vehement 
struggles  between  Christianity  and  the  old  idolatry  in 
the  first  ages  of  the  gospel.  The  angels  of  the  two  op- 
posite armies  represent  two  opposite  parties  in  the  Ro- 
man state,  at  the  time  which  the  vision  more  particularly 
regards.  Michael's  angels  are  the  party  which  espoused 
the  side  of  the  Christian  religion,  the  friends  of  which 
had  for  many  years  been  numerous,  and  became  very 
powerful  under  Constantine  the  Great,  the  first  Chris- 
tian emperor :  the  Dragon's  angels  arc  the  party  which 


{    227    ) 

endeavoured  to  support  the  old  idolatry.  And,  in  con- 
formity with  this  imagery  of  the  Apocalypse,  the  princes 
of  Persia,  in  the  book  of  Daniel,  are  to  be  understood, 
I  think,  of  a  party  in  the  Persian  state  which  opposed  the 
return  of  the  captive  Jews,  first  after  the  death  of  Cyrus, 
and  again  after  the  death  of  Darius  Hystaspes.  And  the 
prince  of  Grrccia  is  to  be  understood  of  a  party  in  the 
Greek  empire  which  persecuted  the  Jewish  religion  after 
the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  particularly  in  the 
Greek  kingdom  of  Syria. 

We  have  now  considered  all  the  angels  and  supposed 
angels  of  the  book  of  Daniel,  except  the  personages  in 
my  text ;  and  we  have  found  as  yet  no  tutelar  angel  of 
any  province  or  kingdom — no  member  of  any  celestial 
senate  or  privy  council.     Indeed,  with  respect  to  the 
latter  notion  of  angels  of  the  presence,  although  it  has 
often  been  assumed  in  exposition  of  some  passages  in 
Daniel,  the  confirmation  of  it  has  never  been  attempted, 
to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  by  reference  to  that  book. 
Its  advocates  have  chiefly  relied  on  Micaiali's  vision,  re- 
lated in  the  twenty- second  chapter  of  the  first  book  of 
Kings;  in  which,  they  say,  Jehovah  is  represented  as 
sitting  in  cmincil  with  his  angels,  and  advising  with  them 
upon  measures.    But,  if  you  read  the  account  of  this 
vision  in  the  Bible,  you  will  find  that  this  is  not  an  ac- 
curate recital  of  it.     ''  Micaiah  saw  Jehovah  sitting  on 
his  throne,  and  all  the  host  of  heaven  standing  by  him, 
on  his  right  hand  and  on  his  left."     Observe,  the  hea- 
venly host  are  not  in  the  attitude  of  counsellors,  sitting; 
they  are  standing,  in  the  attitude  of  servants,  ready  to  re- 
ceive commands,  and  to  be  sent  forth  each  upon  his 
proper  errand.     "  And  Jehovah  said — Who  shall  per- 
suade Ahab  that  he  may  go  up  and  fiill  at  Ramoth  Gi- 
lead?''    Here  is  no  consultation  :  no  advice  is  asked  or 
given.    The  only  question  asked  is — Who,  of  the  \v'hoIe 
rrmltitude  Hs«e;Mb]ed,  will  undertake  a  particular  service? 
54 


(     228     ) 

The  answers  were  various.  "  Some  spake  on  this  man^ 
ner,  and  some  on  that;"  none,  as  it  should  seem,  show- 
ing any  readiness  for  the  business,  till  one,  more  forwiu-d 
than  the  rest,  presented  himself  before  the  throne,  and 
said — "  I  will  persuade  him."  He  is  asked,  by  way  of 
trial  of  his  quahfications,  "  How?"  He  gives  a  satisfac- 
tory answer;  and,  being  both  ready  for  the  business  and 
found  equal  to  it,  is  sent  forth.  If  this  can  be  called  a 
consultation,  it  is  certainly  no  such  consultation  as  a 
great  monarch  holds  with  his  prime  ministers,  but  such 
as  a  military  commander  might  hold  with  privates  in  the 
ranks. 

Having  thus  disposed,  I  think,  of  all  the  passages  in 
the  book  of  Daniel  which  mention  beings  of  the  angelic 
or  of  a  superior  order,  except  my  text,  I  can  now  pro- 
ceed to  the  exposition  of  that,  upon  very  safe  and  certain 
grounds. 

Among  those  who  understand  the  titles  of  "  Watchers" 
and  "  Holy  Ones"  of  angelic  beings,  it  is  not  quite  agreed 
whether  they  are  angels  of  the  cabinet,  or  the  provincial 
governors— the  tutelar  angels,  to  whom  these  appella- 
tions belong.  The  majority,  I  think,  are  for  the  former. 
But  it  is  agreed  by  all,  that  they  must  be  principal  angels 
—angels  of  the  highest  orders ;  which,  if  they  are  angels 
at  all,  must  certainly  be  supposed :  for  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served, that  it  is  not  the  mere  execution  of  the  judgment 
upon  Nebuchadnezzar,  but  the  decree  itself,  which  is 
ascribed  to  them.  The  whole  matter  originated  in  dieir 
decree ;  and  at  their  command  tlie  decree  was  executed. 
"  The  Holy  Ones"  are  not  said  to  hew  down  the  tree, 
but  to  give  command  for  the  hewing  of  it  down.  Of 
b,o\v  high  order,  indeed,  must  these  "  Watchers  and 
IToly  Ones"  have  been,  on  whose  decrees  the  judgments 
of  God  lilmself  are  founded,  and  by  whom  the  warrant 
for  the  exccui-jon  is  fuwliy  issued  ?  It  is  surprising  that 
!;ucb  men  as  Calvin  amoiig  the  Protestants  of  the  Con- 


(     229    ) 

tinent* — such  as  Wells  and  the  elder  Lowth  in  our  own 
church — and  such  as  Calmet  in  the  Church  of  Rome, 
should  not  have  their  eyes  open  to  the  error  and  impiety 
indeed  of  such  an  exposition  as  this,  which  makes  them 
angels ;  especially  when  the  learned  Grotius,  in  the  ex- 
traordinary manner  in  which  he  recommends  it,  had  set 
forth  its  merits,  as  it  should  seem  in  the  true  light,  when 
he  says  that  ii  represents  God  as  acting  like  a  great  mo- 
narch "  upon  a  decree  of  his  senate,"-— and  when  an- 
other of  the  most  learned  of  its  advocates  imagines  some- 
thing might  pass  in  the  celestial  senate  bearing  some  ana- 
logy to  the  forms  of  legislation  used  in  the  assemblies  of 
the  people  at  Rome,  in  the  times  of  the  republic.  It 
might  have  been  expected  that  the  exposition  would  have 
needed  no  other  confiiUition,  in  the  judgment  of  men  of 
piety  and  sober  minds,  than  this  fair  statement  of  its 
principles  by  its  ablest  advocates. 

The  plain  truth  is,  and  some  learned  men,  though  but 
few,  have  seen  it,  that  these  appellations,  "  Watchers'* 
and  "  Holy  Ones,"  denote  the  persons  in  the  Godhead; 
the  first  describing  them  by  the  vigilance  of  their  uni- 
versal providence, — the  second,  by  the  transcendant 
sanctity  of  their  nature.  The  word  rendered  "  Holy 
Ones"  is  so  applied  in  other  texts  of  Scripture,  which 
make  the  sense  of  the  other  word  coupled  with  it  here 
indisputable.  In  perfect  consistency  with  this  exposi- 
tion, and  with  no  other,  we  find,  in  the  twenty-fourth 
verse,  that  this  decree  of  the  "  Watchers"  and  the 
"  Holy  Ones"  is  the  decree  of  the  Most  High  God: 
and  in  a  verse  preceding  my  text,  God,  who  in  regard 
to  the  plurality  of  the  persons,  is  afterwards  described 


*  Cah'in,  indeed,  seems  to  have  liad  some  appreliension  that  lliis  exposition 
(which  how«ver  he  adopted)  makes  too  much  of  angels,  and  to  have  been  em 
hari'iissed  with  the  difficulty.  He  lias  recourse  to  an  admirable  exiJi-dicnt  to  gci, 
over  it.  He  says  the  whole  vision  was  accommodated  to  the  capacity  of  a  hea- 
then king,  who  had  but  a  conSned  knowledge  of  God,  and  could  not  distingui'^h 
>>et\veen  him  and  the  angels. 


(    230    } 

by  these  two  plural  nouns,  "  Watchers"  and  "  Holy 
Ones,"  is,  in  regard  to  the  unity  of  the  essence,  de- 
scribed by  the  same  nouns  in  the  singular  number, 
"  Watcher"  and  "  Holy  One."  And  this  is  a  fuller 
confirmation  of  the  truth  of  this  exposition :  for  God  is 
the  only  being  to  whom  the  same  name  in  the  singular 
and  in  the  plural  may  be  indiscriminately  applied ;  and 
this  change  from  the  one  number  to  the  other,  without 
any  thing  in  the  principles-  of  language  to  account  for  it, 
is  frequent,  in  speaking  of  God,  in  the  Hebrew  tongue, 
but  unexampled  in  the  case  of  any  other  being. 

The  assertion,  therefore,  in  my  text  is,  that  God  had 
decreed  to  execute  a  signal  judgment  upon  Nebuchad- 
nezzar for  his  pride  and  impiety,  in  order  to  prove,  by 
the  example  of  that  mighty  monarch,  that  "  the  Most 
High  ruleth  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to 
whomsoever  he  wall,  and  setteth  up  over  it  the  basest  of 
men."  To  make  the  declaration  the  more  solemn  and 
striking,  the  terms  in  which  it  is  conceived  distinctly 
express  that  consent  and  concurrence  of  all  the  persons 
in  the  Trinity  in  the  design  and  execution  of  this  judg- 
ment, which  must  be  understood  indeed  in  every  act  of 
the  Godhead.  And  in  truth,  we  shall  not  find  in  his- 
tory a  more  awful  example  and  monument  of  Provi- 
dence than  the  vicissitudes  of  Nebuchadnezzar's  life 
afford. 

Raised  gradually  to  the  pinnacle  of  power  and  human 
-glory,  by  a  long  train  of  those  brilliant  actions  and  suc- 
cesses which  man  is  too  apt  to  ascribe  entirely  to  him- 
self  (the  proximate  causes  being  indeed  in  himself  and 
in  the  instruments  he  uses,  although  Providence  is  al- 
ways the  prime  efficient),  he  was  suddenly  cast  down 
from  it,  and,  after  a  time,  as  suddenly  restored,  without 
any  natural  or  human  means.  His  humiliation  was  not 
the  effect  of  any  reverse  of  fortune,  of  any  public  dis- 
aster, or  any  mismanagement  of  the  affairs  of  his  empire. 


(    231     ) 

At  the  expiration  of  a  twelvemonth  from  his  dream,  the 
king,  still  at  rest  in  his  house  and  flourishing  in  his  pa- 
lace surveying  his  city,  and  exulting  in  the  monuments 
of  his  own  greatness  which  it  presented  to  his  eye,  was 
smitten  by  an  invisible  hand.  As  the  event  stood  un- 
connected with  any  known  natural  cause,  it  must  have 
been  beyond  the  ken  of  any  foresight  short  of  the  Di- 
vine; and  it  follows  incontestibly,  that  the  prediction 
and  the  accomplishment  of  it  were  both  from  God.  The 
king's  restoration  to  power  and  grandeur  had  also  been 
predicted ;  and  this  took  place  at  the  predicted  time,  in- 
dependently of  any  natural  cause,  and  without  the  use 
of  any  human  means.  And  the  evidence  of  these  ex* 
traordinary  occurrences — of  the  prediction,  the  fall,  and 
the  restoration — is  perhaps  the  most  undeniable  of  any 
thing  that  rests  upon  mere  human  testimony.  The  king 
himself,  upon  his  recovery,  published  a  manifesto  in 
every  part  of  his  vast  empire,  giving  an  account  of  all 
which  had  befallen  him,  and  in  conclusion  giving  praise 
and  honour  to  the  King  of  heaven ;  acknowledging  that 
"  all  his  works  are  truth,  and  his  ways  judgment,  and 
that  those  who  walk  in  pride  he  is  able  to  abase."  The 
evidence  of  the  whole  fact,  therefore,  stands  upon  this 
public  record  of  the  Babylonian  empire,  which  is  pre- 
served verbatim  in  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  book  of 
Daniel,  of  which  it  makes  indeed  the  whole.  That 
chapter,  therefore,  is  not  Daniel's  writing,  but  Nebu- 
chadnezzar's. 

Nothing  can  so  much  fortify  the  minds  of  the  faithful 
against  all  alarm  and  consternation,— nothing  so  mucli 
maintain  them  in  an  unruffled  composure  of  mind,  amid 
all  the  tumults  and  concussions  of  the  world  around 
them,  as  a  deep  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the  principle 
inculcated  in  my  text,  and  confirmed  by  the  acknow- 
ledgment of  the  royal  penitent  Nebuchadnezzar,  "  that: 
the  Most  High  ruleth  in  the  kingdom  of  men."    But  a'^ 


(    232     ) 

this  doctrine,  so  full  of  consolation  to  the  godly,  is  liable 
to  be  perverted  and  abused  by  that  sort  of  men  who 
wrest  the  Scriptures  to  the  destruction  of  themselves 
and  others, — notwithstanding  that  my  discourse  has  al- 
ready run  to  a  greater  length  than  I  intended,  the  present 
occasion  demands  of  me  to  oiDcn  the  doctrine  in  some 
points  more  fully,  and  to  apply  it  to  the  actual  circum- 
stances of  the  world  and  of  ourselves. 

It  is  the  express  assertion  of  the  text,  and  the  language 
indeed  of  all  the  Scriptures,  that  God  governs  the  world 
according  to  his  will ; — by  which  we  must  understand 
a  will  perfectly  independent,  and  unbiassed  by  any  thing 
external ;  yet  not  an  arbitrary  will,  but  a  will  directed 
by  the  governing  perfections  of  the  Divine  intellect — by 
God's  own  goodness  and  wisdom :  and  as  justice  is  in- 
eluded  in  the  idea  of  goodness,  it  must  be  a  will  go- 
verned by  God's  justice.  But  God's  justice,  in  its  pre- 
sent dispensations,  is  a  justice  accommodated  to  our 
probationary  state, — a  justice  which,  making  the  ulti- 
mate happiness  of  those  who  shall  finally  be  brought  by 
the  probationary  discipline  to  love  and  fear  God,  its  end, 
regards  the  sum-total  and  ultimate  issue  of  things — not 
the  comparative  deserts  of  men  at  the  present  moment. 
To  us,  therefore,  who  see  the  present  moment  only, 
the  government  of  the  world  will  appear  upon  many  oc- 
casions not  conformable,  in  our  judgments,  formed  upon 
limited  and  narrow  views  of  things,  to  the  maxims  of 
distributive  justice.  We  see  power  and  prosperity  not 
at  all  proportioned  to  merit;  for  "  the  Most  High,  who 
ruieth  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  giveth  it  to  whomsoever 
he  will,  and  setteth  up  over  it  the  basest  of  men," — men 
base  by  the  turpitude  of  their  wicked  lives,  more  than 
by  the  obscurity  of  their  original  condition  ;  while  good 
kings  are  divested  of  their  hereditary  dominions,  de- 
throned, and,  murdered :  insomuch,  that  if  power  and 
prosperity  were  sure  marks  of  the  favour  of  God  for 


(     233     ) 

those  by  whom  they  are  possessed,  the  observation  of 
the  poet,  impious  as  it  seems,  would  too  often  be  ve- 
rified ; 

«  The  conqueror  is  Heaven's  favourite;  but  on  earth, 
"  Just  men  approve  and  honour  more  the  vanquished:"* 

as  at  this  moment  the  world  beholds  with  wonder  and 
dismay  the  low-born  usurper  of  a  great  monarch's  throne, 
raised  by  the  hand  of  Providence  unquestionabfy,  to  an 
eminence  of  power  and  grandeur  enjoyed  by  none  since 
the  subversion  of  the  Roman  empire ; — a  man  whose 
undaunted  spirit  and  success  in  enterprise  might  throw 
a  lustre  over  the  meanest  birth,  while  the  profligacy  of 
his  private  and  the  crimes  of  his  public  life  would  dis- 
grace the  noblest.  When  we  see  the  imperial  diadem 
circling  this  monster's  brows, — while  we  confess  the 
hand  of  God  in  his  elevation,  let  us  not  be  tempted  to 
conclude  from  this,  or  other  similar  examples,  that  He 
who  ruleth  in  the  kingdom  of  men  delights  in  such  cha- 
racters, or  that  he  is  even  indifferent  to  the  virtues  and 
vices  of  men.  It  is  not  for  his  own  sake  that  such  a 
man  is  raised  from  the  dunghill  on  which  he  sprang,  but 
for  the  good  of  God's  faithful  servants,  who  are  the  ob- 
jects of  his  constant  care  and  love  even  at  the  time  when 
they  are  suffering  under  the  tyrant's  cruelt>^ :  for  who 
can  doubt  that  the  seven  brethren  and  their  mother  were 
the  objects  of  God's  love,  and  their  persecutor  Antl- 
ochus  Epiphanes  of  his  hate?  But  such  persons  are 
raised  up  and  permitted  to  indulge  their  ferocious  pas- 
sions, tlieir  ambition,  their  cruelty,  and  their  revenge, 
as  the  instruments  of  God's  judgments  for  the  reforma- 
tion of  his  people ;  and  when  diat  purpose  is  answered, 
venj^eance  is  executed  upon  them  for  their  own  crimes. 

*  "  Victrix  causa  Diis  pbcait ;  scti  v:-c"a  C,-> 'oni.'' 


(    234    ) 

Thus  it  was  with  the  Syrian  we  have  just  mentioned, 
and  with  that  more  ancient  persecutor  Sennacherib,  and 
many  more ;  and  so,  we  trust,  it  shall  be  with  him  who 
now  "  smiteth  the  people  in  his  wrath,  and  ruleth  the 
cations  in  his  anger."  When  the  nations  of  Europe 
shall  break  off  their  sins  by  righteousness,  the  Corsican 
''  shall  be  persecuted  with  the  fury  of  our  avenging, 
God,  and  none  shall  hinder." 

Again,  if  the  thought  that  God  ruleth  the  affairs  of  the 
world  according  to  his  will  were  always  present  to  the 
minds  of  men,  they  would  never  be  cast  down  beyond 
measure  by  any  successes  of  an  enemy,  nor  be  uiiduly 
elated  with  their  own.  The  will  of  God  is  a  cause  ever 
blended  with  and  overruling  other  causes,  of  which  it  is 
impossible  from  any  thing  past  to  calculate  the  future 
operation:  what  is  called  the  fortune  of  war,  by  this 
unseen  and  mysterious  cause  may  be  reversed  in  a 
moment. 

Hence  again  it  follows,  that  men,  persuaded  upon  good 
grounds  of  the  justice  of  their  cause,  should  not  be  dis- 
couraged-ev^n  by  great  failures  in  the  beginning  of  the 
contest,  nor  by  sudden  turns  of  ill  fortune  in  the  pro- 
gress of  it.  Upon  such  occasions,  they  should  humbk 
themselves  before  God,  confess  their  sins,  and  depre- 
cate his  judgments :  but  they  should  not  interpret  every 
advantage  gained  by  the  enemy  as  a  sign  that  the  sen- 
tence of  God  is  gone  forth  against  themselves,  and  that 
they  are  already  fallen  not  to  rise  again.  When  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin  refused  to  give  up  "  the  children  of  Belial 
which  were  in  Gibeah"  to  the  just  resentment  of  their 
countrymen,  the  other  tribes  confederated,  and  with  a 
great  force  misde  war  upon  them.  The  cause  of  the 
confederates  was  just.  The  war,  on  their  part,  was 
sanctioned  by  the  voice  of  God  himself;  and  it  was  in 
the  counsel  and  decree  of  God  that  they  should  be  ulti 
rnatcly  victorious:   yet,  upon   the  attack  of  the  tov.-n^ 


i     235     ) 

they  were  twice  repulsed,  with  great  slmig^ter.  But 
they  were  not  driven  to  despair :  they  assenilDled  them- 
selves before  the  house  of  God,  and  wept,  and  fasted. 
They  received  command  to  go  out  again  the  third  day. 
They  obeyed.  They  were  victorious.  Gibeah  was 
burned  to  the  ground,  and  the  guiky  tribe  of  Benjamin 
was  all  but  extirpated ; — an  edifying  example  to  all  na- 
tions to  put  their  trust  in  God  in  the  most  unpromising 
circumstances. 

Again,  a  firm  belief  in  God's  providence,  overruling 
the  fortunes  of  men  and  nations,  will  moderate  our  ex- 
cessive admiration  of  the  virtues  and  talents  of  men,  and 
particularly  of  the  great  achievements  of  bad  men,  which 
are  always  erroneously  ascribed  to  their  own  high  en- 
dowments. Great  virtues  and  great  talents  being  indeed 
the  gifts  of  God,  those  on  whom  they  are  conferred  are 
jusdy  entitled  to  respect  and  honour :  but  the  Giver  is 
not  to  be  forgotten, — the  centre  and  source  of  all  per- 
fection, to  whom  thanks  and  praise  are  primarily  due 
even  for  those  benefits  which  are  conveyed  to  us  through 
his  highly  favoured  servants.  But  when  the  brilliant 
successes  of  bad  men  are  ascribed  to  themselves,  and 
they  are  admired  for  those  very  actions  in  which  they 
are  the  most  criminal,  it  is  a  most  dangerous  error,  and 
often  fatal  to  the  interests  of  mankind ;  as  in  these  very 
times,  nothing  has  so  much  conduced  to  establish  the 
power  of  the  Corsican  and  multiply  his  successes,  as  the 
slavish  fear  of  him  which  has  seized  the  minds  of  men, 
growing  out  of  an  admiration  of  his  boldness  in  enter- 
prise on  some  occasions,  and  his  hiirbreadth  escapes  on 
others,  which  have  raised  in  the  many  an  opinion  that  he 
possesses  such  abilities,  both  in  council  and  in  the  field, 
as  render  him  an  overmatch  for  all  the  statesmen  and  all 
the  warriors  of  Europe,  insomuch,  that  nothing  can 
stand  before  him :  whereas,  in  truth,  it  were  easy  to  find 
causes  of  his  e.^araordinary  success  in  the  political  prin- 
^55 


{    236     ) 

cipies  of  the  times  in  which  he  first  arose,  independent 
of  any  uncommon  talents  of  his  own, — principally  in 
the  revolutionary  phrenzy,  the  spirit  of  treason  and  re- 
volt, which  prevailed  in  the  countries  that  were  the  first 
prey  of  his  unprincipled  ambition.  But,  were  this  not 
the  case,  yet  were  it  impious  to  ascribe  such  a  man's 
successes  to  himself.  It  has  been  the  will  of  God  to  set 
up  over  the  kingdom  "  the  basest  of  men,"  in  order  to 
chastise  the  profaneness,  the  irreligion,  the  lukewarm- 
ness,  the  profligacy,  the  turbulent  seditious  spirit  of  the 
times ;  and  when  this  purpose  is  eifected,  and  the  wrath 
of  God  appeased,  "  wherein  is  this  man  to  be  accounted 
of,  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils?" 

It  is  a  gross  perversion  of  tlie  doctrine  of  Providence, 
when  any  argument  is  drawn  from  it  for  the  indiffer- 
ence of  all  human  actions  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  the 
insignificance  of  all  human  efforts.  Since  every  thing  is 
settled  by  Providence  according  to  God's  own  will,  to 
'what  avail,  it  is  said^  is > the  interference  of  man?  At 
the  commencement  of  the  disordered  state  which  still 
subsists  in  Europe,  when  apprehensions  were  expressed 
by  many  (apprehensions  which  are  still  entertained  by 
those  who  first  expressed  themj  that  the  great  Antichrist 
is  likely  to  arise  out  of  the  French  revolution,  it  was  ar- 
gued by  them  who  v/ere  friends  to  the  cause  of  France 
— "  To  what  purpose  is  it  then,  upon  your  own  princi- 
ples, to  resist  the  French  ?  Antichrist  is  to  arise, — he 
is  to  prevail, — he  is  to  exercise  a  wide  dominion ;  and 
what  human  opposition .  can  set  aside  the  fixed  designs 
of  Providence  ?"  Strange  to  tell,  this  argument  took 
with  many  who  were  not  friends  to  the  French  cause, 
so  far  at  least  as  to  make  them  averse  to  the  war  with 
France.  The  fallacy  of  the  argument  lies  in  this,  that 
it  considers  Providence  by  halves ;  it  considers  Provi- 
dence as  ordaining  an  end  and  effecting  it  without  the 
rise  or  the  appointment  at  least  of  means :  whereas  the 


(    237    ) 

true  notion  of  Providence  is,  that  God  ordains  thfe 
means  with  the  end  ;  and  the  means  which  he  employs 
are  for  the  most  part  natural  causes ;  and  among  them 
he  makes  men,  acting  without  any  knowledge  of  his 
secret  will,  from  their  own  views  as  free  agents,  the  in- 
struments  of  his  purpose.  In  the  case  of  Antichrist,  in 
particular,  prophecy  is  explicit.  So  clearly  as  it  is  fore- 
told that  he  shall  rise,  so  clearly  is  it  foretold  that  he  shall 
fall :  so  clearly  as  it  is  foretold  that  he  shall  raise  himself 
to  power  by  successful  war,  so  clearly  it  is  foretold  that 
war — fierce  and  furious  war,  waged  upon  him  by  the 
faithful,  shall  be  in  part  the  means  of  his  downfal.  So 
false  is  all  the  despicable  cant  of  puritans  about  the  un- 
lawfulness of  war.  And,  with  respect  to  the  present 
crisis,  if  the  will  of  God  should  be,  that  for  the  punish- 
ment of  our  sins  the  enemy  should  prevail  against  us, 
we  must  humble  ourselves  under  the  dreadful  visitation : 
but  if,  as  we  hope  and  trust,  it  is  the  will  of  God  that 
the  vile  Corsican  shall  never  set  his  foot  upon  our  shores, 
the  loyalty  and  valour  of  the  country  are,  we  trust,  the 
appointed  means  of  his  exclusion.  "Be  of  good  cou- 
rage, then,  and  play  the  men  for  your  people;  and  the 
Lord  do  that  which  seemeth  him  good." 

It  is  particularly  necessary  at  this  season  that  I  should 
warn  you  against  another  gross  and  dangerous  perversion 
of  the  doctrine  of  Providence,  which  is  misconceived 
and  abused  when  we  impute  any  successes  with  which 
we  may  be  blessed  to  any  merit  of  our  own  engaging  on 
our  side  that  will  of  God  by  which  the  universe  is  go- 
verned. If  we  are  successful  in  our  contest  with  a 
tyrant  who  has  surpassed  in  crime  all  former  examples 
of  depravity  in  an  exalted  station,  we  owe  it  not  to 
ourselves,  but  to  God's  unmerited  mercy.  Nor  are  we 
to  ascribe  it  to  any  pre-eminent  righteousness  of  this 
nation,  in  comparison  with  others,  if  we  have  suffered 
less  and  prospered   more  than  Qthers  engaged  in  the 


(     238     ) 

same  quarrel.  This  coiintr>%  since  the  beginning  of 
Europe's  iroubles  to  the  present  day,  has  certainly  been 
favoured  beyond  otlier  nations :  and  at  this  very  crisis, 
- — at  the  moment  when  the  armies  of  our  continental  ;illy 
were  fljing  before  those  of  the  common  eneiay, — in  that 
very  moment  the  combined  fleets  of  France  and  Spam, 
which  were  to  have  lowered  the  British  flag,  to  huve 
wrested  from  us  our  ancient  sovereignty  of  the  ocean, 
and  to  have  extinguished  our  commerce  in  all  its 
branches, — this  proud  naval  armament,  encountered  by 
a  far  infti  ior  force  of  British  ships — a  force  inferior  in 
every  thing  but  the  intrepidity  of  our  seamen  and  the 
skill  of  their  leaders — was  dashed  to  pieces,  at  the  mouth 
of  its  own  harbour,  by  the  cannon  of  that  great  commander 
whose  grave  is  strewed  with  laurels  and  bedewed  with 
his  country's  tears.  But  let  not  this  inspire  the  vain 
thought,  that,  because  we  are  righteous  above  all  the 
nations  of  Europe,  our  lot  has  therefore  been  happier 
than  theirs.  It  has  been  ruled  by  the  highest  authority, 
that  they  are  not  always  the  greatest  sinners  on  whom 
the  greatest  evils  fall.  The  converse  follows  most  un- 
deniably, that  those  nations  are  not  always  the  most 
righteous  who  in  peace  are  the  most  flourishing  and  in 
war  the  most  successful.  Let  us  give,  therefore,  the 
whole  glory  to  God.  In  the  hour  of  defeat,  let  us  say 
- — "  Why  should  man  complain? — man,  for  the  punish- 
ment  of  his  sins;"  in  the  hour  of  victory — "  Let  us  not 
be  high-minded,  but  fear," 


Books  for  sale  hy  T.  SC  J.  Sivords^ 

No.  160  Pearl-street,  N'ew-York. 

The  great  Duty  of  frequenriiij'j  the  Christian  Sacrifice, 

and  the  Nature  of  the  Preparation  required;  M'ith  suitable 
Devotions,  partly  collected  from  the  Ancient  Liturgies.  To 
which  are  prefixed.  Instructions  for  Confirmation. 

New  M,<nu  il  of  Privnte  Devotions.  In  three  Parts. 
Part  I.  Containing  Prayers  for  Families  and  private  Persons. 
Part  II.  Containing  Offices:  1.  Of  Humiliation.  2.  For  the 
Sick-  3.  For  Women  with  Child.  Pari  III.  Consisting  of 
an  (,)ffice  for  the  Holy  Communion  :  to  which  are  added  some 
occasional  Prayers. 

A  Suinniury  of  the  principal  Evidences  for  the  Truth 
and  Divine  Origin  of  the  Christian  Revelation.  Designed 
chiefly  for  the  Use  of  young  Persons.  By  Bielby,  Lord  Bi- 
shop of  London. 

The  Mourner ;  or  the  Afflicted  relieved.  By  Benjamin 
Grosvenor,  D.  D. 

The  Catechism  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church 
in  the  United  States  of  America.  To  Avhich  is  annexed,  a 
Catechism,  designed  as  an  Explanation  and  Enlargement  of 
the  Church  Catechism ;  Recommended  by  the  Bishop  and 
Clergy  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  State  of 
New-York.     The  third  Edition. 

A  Companion  for  the  Fesiivals  and  Fasts  of  the  Pro- 
testant Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States  of  America. 
Principally  selected  and  altered  from  Nelson's  Companion  for 
the  Festivals  and  Fasts  of  the  Church  of  England.  By  John 
Henry  Hobart,  A.  M.  an  Assistant  Minister  of  Trinity  Church, 
New- York.  To  winch  are  added.  Pastoral  Advice  to  Young 
Persons  before  and  after  Confirmation,  by  a  Minister  of  the 
Church  of  England ;  and  an  Exhortation  to  Family  Prayer,  by 
Bishop  Gibson  ;  with  Forms  of  Devotion. 

An  I'.xposjiion  oi"  (he  Book  ol  Common  Prayer,  and 
Admiiiistration  of  the  Sacraments,  and  other  Rites  and  Ce- 
remonies of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United 
States  of  America.  By  the  Rev.  Andrew  Fowler,  A.  M.  Rec- 
tor of  St.  Bartholomew's  Parish,  South-Carolina.  The  second 
Edition,  with  Additions  and  Imp-ovements. 

Aa  Apology  for  Apostolic  Order  and  its  Advocates, 
occasioned  by  the  Strictures  and  Denunciations  of  the  Chris- 
tian's Magazine  In  a  Series  of  Letters,  addressed  to  the  Rev. 
John  M.  Mason,  D  D.  the  Editor  of  that  Work.  By  the  Rev. 
John  Henry  Hobart,  an  Assistant  Minister  of  Trinity  Church. 
Judge  righteous  judgment.     John  vii.  24. 

A  Collection  ot  the  EssayL>  on  ihc  Subject  of  Epis- 
copacy, which  originally  appeared  in  the  Albany  Centinel,  and 
which  are  ascribed  principally  to  tlie  Rev.  Dr.  Lmn,  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Beasley,  and  Thomas  Y.  How,  Esq.  With  additional 
Notes  and  Remarks. 


Booh  for  sale  by  T.  S(  J.  Swords, 

Letters  addressed  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  Miller,  D.  D. 
in  reply  to  his  Letters  concerning  the  Constitution  and  Order 
of  the  Christian  Ministry.  In  which  there  is  an  humble  At- 
tempt to  show  that  the  Charges  against  the  Episcopal  Church 
and  her  Advocates,  are  totally  unfounded ;  and  in  wliich  the 
preliminary  Reasoning  of  tlfe  Reverend  Author  is  particularly 
considered.  Being  Introductory  to  an  Examination  of  the 
whole  Work.    By  Thomas  Y.  How. 

The  Apostolic  Origin  of  Episcopacy  asserted,  in  a 
Series  of  Letters  addressed  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Miller,  one  of  the 
Pastors  of  the  United  Presbyterian  Churches  in  the  City  of 
New-York,  by  the  Rev.  John  Bowden,  D.  D.  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy,  Logic,  and  Belles  Letters,  in  Columbia 
College. iudi  alteram  fiartem. 

Primitive  Truth  and  Order  vindicated  from  modern 
Misrepresentation:  with  a  Defence  of  Episcopacy,  particu- 
larly tliat  of  Scotland,  against  an  Attack  made  on  it  by  the 
late  Dr.  Campbell,  of  Aberdeen,  in  his  Lectures  on  Ecclesi- 
astical History.  By  the  Right  Rev.  John  Skinner,  in  Aber- 
deen, Senior  Bishop  of  the  Scotch  Episcopal  Church.  The 
first  American  Edition.  To  which  is  annexed,  a  Review  of 
Dr.  Haweis'  Church  History. 

The  Christian  Institutes;  or,  the  Sincere  Word  of 
God.  Being  a  plain  and  impartial  Account  of  the  whole  Faith 
and  Duty  of  a  Christian.  Collected  out  of  the  Writings  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament:  digested  under  proper  Heads, 
and  delivered  in  the  W^ords  of  Scripture.  By  the  Right  Rev. 
Father  in  God  Francis,  late  I^ord  Bishop  of  Chester.  The  first 
American,  from  the  twelfth  London  Edition. 

The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson,  D.  D.  the  first  Presi- 
dent of  King's  College,  in  New-York.  Containing  many  in- 
teresting Anecdotes ;  a  general  View  of  the  State  of  Religion 
and  Learning  in  Connecticut  during  the  former  Part  of  the 
last  Century ;  and  an  Account  of  the  Institution  and  Rise  of 
Yale  College,  Connecticut;  and  of  King's  (now  Columbia) 
College,  New-York.  By  Thomas  Bradbury  Chandler,  D.  D. 
formerly  Rector  of  St.  John's  Church,  Elizabeth-Town,  New- 
Jersey.  To  which  is  added,  an  Appendix,  contaming  many 
original  Letters,  never  before  published,  from  Bishop  Berk- 
ley, Archbishop  Seeker,  Bishop  Lowth,  and  others,  to  Dr. 
Johnson. 

A  Guide  to  the  Church,  in  several  Discourses:    To 

which  are  added,  two  Postscripts;  the  first  to  those  Mem- 
bers of  the  Church  who  occasionally  frequent  other  Places  of 
Public  Worship  ;  the  second  to  the  Clergy.  Addressed  tp 
William  Wilberforce,  Esq.  M.  P.  By  the  Rev.  Charles  Dau- 
beny,  LL.  B.  a  Presbyter  of  the  Church  of  England. 
An  Attempt  to  familiarize  the  Church  Catechism.  For 
the  Use  of  Sciiools  and  Families.     Bv  Mrs.  Trimmer. 


Books  for  sale  hy  T.  3C  /.  Swords, 
The  Excellence  of  the   Church,  a  Sermon,   preached 

at  the  Consecration  of  Trinity  Church,  Newark,  New-Jersey, 
by  the  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Moore,  on  Monday,  May  31,  A.  D. 
1810.     By  John  Henry  Hobart,  D.  D. 

Discourses  on  several  important  Subjects.  By  tlie  late 
Right  Rev.  Samuel  Seabury,  D.  D.  Bishop  of  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  Church  in  the  States  of  Connecticut  and  Uhode- 
Island.  Published  from  Manuscripts  prepared  by  the  Author 
for  the  Press. 

The  Lite  and  Posthumous  Writings  of  William  Cow- 
per,  Esq.  with  an  Introductory  Letter  to  the  Right  Honoura- 
ble Earl  Cowper.     By  William  Hayley,  Esq. 

Ccelebs  in  Search  of  a  Wife.  Comprehending  Observa- 
tions on  Domestic  Habits  and  Manners,  Religion  and  Morals. 

An  Abridgement  of  Scripture  History:  consisting  of 
Lessons  selected  from  the  Old  Testament.  For  the  Use  of 
Schools  and  Families.     By  Mrs.  Trimmer. 

An  Antidote  to  the  Miseries  of  Htmian  Life,  in  the 
History  of  the  Widow  Placid  and  her  Daughter  Rachel. 

A  Sequel  to  the  Antidote  to  the  Miseries  oi"  Human 
Life,  containing  a  further  Account  of  Mrs.  Placid  and  her 
Daughter  Rachel. 

The  genuine  Epistles  of  the  Apostolic  Fathers,  St. 
Barnabas,  St.  Ignatius,  St.  Clement,  St.  Polycarp,  the  Shep- 
herd of  Hermas,  and  the  Martyrdoms  of  St,  Ignatius  and  St^ 
Polycarp,  written  by  those  who  were  present  at  their  Sufferings. 
Being,  together  with  the  Holy  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, a  complete  Collection  of  the  most  primitive  Antiquity,  for 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  Years  after  Christ.  Translated  and 
published  with  a  large  preliminary  Discourse,  relating  to  the 
several  Treatises  here  put  together.  By  William,  Lord  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury. 

The  Clergyman's  Companion,  containing  the  occa- 
sional Offices  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  used  by  the 
Clergy  ot  the  said  Church  in  the  Discharge  of  their  Parochial 
Duties.  To  which  are  added,  Extracts  from  the  Wiiiings  of 
distinguished  Divines,  on  the  Qualifications  and  Duties  of  the 
Clerical  Office. 

An  Apology  for  the  Bible,  in  a  Series  of  Letters,  ad- 

di'essed  to  Thomas  Paine,  Author  of  a  Book   entitled.  The 

Age  of  Reason,  Part  the   second,  being  an  Investigation   of 

True  and  Fabulous  Theology.     By  R.  Watson,  D.  D.  F.R.S. 

Lord  Bishop  of  Landaff,  and  Reg.  Prof,  of  Divinity  in  the 

University  of  Cambridge. 
Sacra  Privata.     The  Private  Meditations  and  Prayers 

of  the  Right  Rev.  Thomas   Wilson,  D.  D.    Bishop  of  Sodoi* 

and  Man.     Accommodated  to  general  Use. 
An  Addiess  to  young  Persons  after  Confirmation.     By 

Richard,  Watson,  Lord  Bishop  of  Landall'. 


Books  for  sale  by  T.  K  J.  Swords. 

^Vn  Inaugural  Discourse,  delivered  in  Christ's  Church, 
Baltimore,  on  the  31st  of  December,  1809;  at  the  time  in 
Avhich  the  Author  was  instituted  as  Associated  Rector  into  St. 
Paul's  Parish.     By  the  Rev.  Frederick  Beasley,  A.  M. 

Two  Letters  to  the  Editor  of  the  Christian's  Maga- 
zine. By  a  Churchman.  Be  calm  in  arguing,  for  fierceness 
makes  error  a  fault,  and  truth  discourtesy.  Herbert — Refellere 
sine  iiertinacia,  et  refelli  sine  iracunda,  fiariti  sumus.     Cicero. 

The  Life  of  the  Rev.  Devereux  Jarratt,  Rector  of  Bath 
Parish,  Dinwiddie  County,  Virginia.  Wi'ilten  by  himself, 
in  a  Series  of  Letters  addressed  to  the  Rev.  John  Coleman, 
one  of  the  Ministers  of  the  Prot.  Epis.  Church  in  Maryland. 

A  Compunion  for  the  Altar;  consisting  of  a  short  l.^xpla- 
nation  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  Meditations  and  Prayers,  pro- 
per to  be  used  before  and  during  the  receiving  of  the  Holy 
Communion,  according  to  the  Form  prescribed  by  the  Pro- 
testant Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States  of  America. 
By  John  Henry  Hobart,  A.  M.  an  Assistant  Minister  of  Trinity- 
Church,  New-York. 

Sacred  Biography ;  or,  the  History  of  the  Patriarchs. 
To  which  is  added,  the  History  of  Deborah,  Ruth,  and  Han- 
nah. Being  a  Course  of  Lectures  delivered  at  the  Scots 
Church,  London  Wall.  By  Henry  Hunter,  D.  D.  The  se- 
cond American  Edition.     Complete  in  four  Volumes. 

Prayers  and  Offices  of  Devotion  for  Families,  and  for 
particular  Persons,  upon  most  Occasions.  By  Benjamin 
Jenks,  late  Rector  of  liarley  in  Shropshire,  and  Chaplain  to 
the  Right  Hon.  the  Earl  of  Bradford. 

Letters  to  a  young  Lady,  in  which  the  Duties  and  Cha- 
racter of  Women  are  considered,  chiefly  with  a  reference  to 
prevailing  Opinions.     By  Mrs.  West. 

Sacred  Dramas,  chiefly  iiUended  for  young  Persons : 
Subjects  taken  from  the  Bible.  To  which  are  added,  Reflec- 
tions of  King  Hezekiah;  Sensibility,  a  Poem;  and  Search 
after  Happiness.     By  H.  More. 

Alciphi  on,  or  the  Minute  Philosopher.  In  seven  Dia- 
logues. Containing  an  Apology  for  the  Christian  Religion, 
against  those  who  are  called  Free-thinkers.  By  George  Berk- 
ley, D.  D.  Author  of  a  Treatise  concerning  the  Principles 
of  Human  Knowledge,  and  various  other  Works,  chiefly  in 
Defence  of  Christianity,  against  Atheists  and  Infidels. 

The  Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  oi  Man;  or  the  Nature  and 
Excellency  of  the  Christian  Religion.  By  H  Scougal,  M.  A. 
AVilh  rccouuneudatory  Prefaces,  and  some  Forms  of  Prayer. 

"^■^-*  Common  Prayer  Books,  in  folio,  4.to.  8vo. 
12mo.  18mo.  and  32mo.  in  various  Bindings,  are  for  sale  as 
above ;  also  Bibles,  Testaments,  Spelling  Books,  &c.  with  aix 
extensive  assortment  of  Theological  and  Classical  Books,  ?cc. 


^^^ 


